


Anatomy of a Routine Insurgency

by Lycaste



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Love/Hate, Other, Power Dynamics, Psychological Warfare, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, cameo appearances - Freeform, complicated Decepticon friendships, overthrowing your leader, slight AU, space adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaste/pseuds/Lycaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frustrated with Megatron’s ineffectual leadership, Starscream makes a bold move for power. Yet authority comes with more pitfalls than imagined. Now the Seeker must face unhappy Warriors Elite, meddling Autobots, his destined collision course with Soundwave, a promising piece of organic technology that could turn the tide of the war, and his own conflicted feelings for a certain former gladiator. This particular insurgency might be anything but routine. And with the pressure mounting, Starscream wages a war on all fronts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do you like reading about tender romance between two kind souls as they make love in the clover while holding eye contact and tearfully spilling confessions of undying devotion as _Unchained Melody_ plays in the background? Me neither! Standard MegaStar warnings apply here: dub-con, twisted affection, violence, ego, love/hate, muddled motivations, confusion about feelings, dominance issues, and the standard assassination attempts. 
> 
> I’m calling this a slight AU for the following reasons:  
> \- I’ve made up some stuff that might be contradicted in future issues of the comics (who knows).  
> \- To make it work within the IDW timeline (I think it does but it might not. I imagine it takes place not long before Overlord defects. I've expounded on this a bit more in the comments under chapter 1).  
> \- To make a flimsy excuse for possible plot holes or mistakes (but _of course_ there aren’t any).
> 
> Fic takes place in the past, although it refers to or hints at some events in the IDW canon. A few spoilers for MTMTE through issue 40. That said, I don't think you have to be that familiar with IDW to follow.
> 
> POV switches between Starscream and Soundwave. High plot:sex ratio (sorry).
> 
> Now that we’re on the same page, read on. Because a long time ago all this stuff happened…

 

“Megatron gave us our reason for living. Megatron is the Decepticon cause.”  
-Soundwave, _Transformers: Robots in Disguise #21_

“I’m not betraying anyone. I’ve never been on Ratbat’s side. I’ve been on my side, and – occasionally – on Megatron’s.”  
-Starscream, _Transformers: Robots in Disguise #2_

“People who bite the hand that feeds them usually lick the boot that kicks them.”  
-Eric Hoffer, Author

 

_Millions of years ago.  
At the dawning of a revolution…_

Perhaps it was a bad idea from the beginning. Yes the Seeker displayed the right amount of confidence, and he had the speed to back up his boasting. A cursory scan of his mind showed he believed in the Cause. Deeper examinations disclosed his idol worship of their rising leader. He seemed the perfect candidate, but hindsight is always a new pair of optics.

Soundwave shot out a hand to steady himself against the wall of the alley, absently noticing how his fingers left trails in the grime. Countless little observations were overwhelming his concentration. The smoky thick smell of fried capacitors warred with the clang and patter of mechanimals rooting through piles of used parts. A painful awareness of even numbers hijacked his vision with hues of indigo and emerald green. He scrambled to push the sensory overload away, but pieces of information needled at him, causing him to see, to feel, too much. 

Yet the little things weren’t the root of the problem. The main distraction emanated from the mech to his left. Starscream’s emotions beat a bright, sonorous red. His feelings licked and stumbled through the space around him, squealing like claws down a sheet of metal.

Soundwave directed his senses to the ticking of his own internal components. It was the method he had learned so long ago, when he first started studying his telepathic abilities with the help of Ravage. One-pointed focus to remain a calm observer to the thoughts and feelings of others. Letting them flow past him, rather than trample over him. 

By now he was an advanced student of meta-cognition. Thinking about thinking. The practice had taught him to function, allowed him to grow from a wreck of a mech into someone with autonomy and purpose. Someone in the position to do something about the inequality that had ground bots into slaves. So if Megatron wanted a flight-capable combatant, than a flyer he would have. Even if the flyer taxed Soundwave's mental training more than anyone else had in a long time. 

“Are you okay?” asked Starscream. “You _do_ know the way, right?”

“Yes.” Megatron would be pleased to see not one Seeker, but three. Soundwave pushed himself off the wall. “Follow.”

He continued to escort them through the steel-gray alleys of Kaon, past forgotten storage units and doors that led to nowhere. Twice he doubled back and intersected their previous route, although he was sure nobody was tailing them. They were just another group of low-caste mechs slipping between the cracks.

A slight electrical buzz filled the air, like a comm call on an untraceable frequency. 

Stride unbroken, Soundwave cocked his head and listened. Not a comm call, but similar. The crackling soon settled into something his finely tuned audio receivers could understand.

::This guy is creeping me out. How do we know he’s not gonna stab us in the spark and harvest our fuel pumps?::

The words came with an air of playful violence. Soundwave categorized the tone and labeled it ’Skywarp’. The purple teleporter whose eagerness outweighed his intelligence. With his unique skill and thirst to push back, he would make a valuable addition to their movement. 

::Because there’s three of us and one of him? Besides, no one wants your cruddy fuel pump, Warp.::

That signal was deeper, richer. Soundwave flagged it as ‘Thundercracker’. If there was a weak link in the group, it was him. Doubt radiated from his plating and his distrust tasted like crude oil. But Thundercracker was stable, and a longing for something better sang from his electromagnetic field. 

Soundwave took a sharp turn to the right, stepping around a gooey puddle and dodging a dripping pipe. Trinemates. That was it. He must be hearing an infamous Trine link. _Interesting._

::We can also fly away, dimwit.:: That response was unmistakably Starscream. ::Tell me you’re not afraid of this uncharismatic bore. It’ll be fine. Just be smooth and let me do the talking when we meet Megatron.::

Soundwave smothered a scoff. Starscream mistook conversation for charisma. Hopefully he could behave himself for Megatron.

::Skywarp does have a point though,:: said Thundercracker. ::What if-::

::I said we’ll be fine,:: Starscream shot back. ::This is what we wanted, remember? This is the beginning of something real. And I’m gonna fly straight to the top.::

::Don’t you mean we?:: asked Thundercracker. ::We’re gonna fly straight to the top?::

::I. We. Same thing.::

Soundwave stopped in front of an ordinary storage module near the road. Headlights flashed above them, accompanied by the sound of grounders whizzing by in their alt modes. The place wasn’t so much hidden as nondescript. The average onlooker would never guess what lay inside, a dead end housing a new beginning. As a precaution, he dropped a hand over the Decepticon symbol on his chest. With the other hand, he knocked on the door.

It opened to reveal a guard sitting behind a monitor. Swindle. The one who believed in the Cause, but whose thoughts often read as _shanix, shanix, shanix_. He looked at the four of them with badly practiced disinterest.

Soundwave nodded to him and moved his hand aside to uncover the Decepticon badge. The badge Starscream wanted so badly to wear.

Swindle pointed a thumb towards the inner door. “Word to the wise, the big guy is in a bad mood. He had a run-in tonight. Lost an arm.”

 _No._ A major injury? So soon? That would be detrimental to their plans. Soundwave couldn’t prevent his visor from flaring. “Dismemberment…is he functional?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Swindle. “He’s good. Heh…good as you can be with one arm, I guess. Scrap was he _mad_.” He pressed a button on the rusty control panel, and the door on the far end of the container opened. “Anyway…ech…you should see the other guy.”

Soundwave’s agitation settled. The other guy was no doubt still in pieces. He beckoned towards the Trine, crossed the small storage area, and walked them into a darkened hallway. 

Their footsteps echoed through the long, empty corridor. Soundwave’s senses functioned well in the dark, and this hall felt like every other makeshift base they’d created in the past month. Stuffy and plain, yet with a palpable excitement that came from knowing you were on the brink of something huge. 

The hallway soon widened and glowed dimly under emergency lighting. Two dented mechs limped past them while leaning on each other. They grunted to Soundwave, thoughts alight with painful pride and images of high-grade.

Head tipping in acknowledgement, Soundwave shut them out to probe the Seekers again. He could hear Starscream wanting to ask questions about the base, but the brash jet didn’t voice them. _Good to see he has a sliver of self-control between his thoughts and his vocalizer._

The hallway terminated at a large set of bay doors. Before he hit the button to open them, Soundwave placed an arm in front of Starscream’s cockpit. “I should warn you, many mechs find themselves overwhelmed by him. I suggest-“

“So what’s he like?” interrupted Starscream, bouncing on his heel thrusters.

Soundwave considered the question honestly. “He is a long detonation sequence on a powerful explosive.” Using the opportunity of Starscream’s brief attention to continue his instructions, he said, “Do not attempt to antagonize him. He will not stand for games, and he will not hesitate to dispatch you if he thinks you are lying.” He met Starscream’s unflinching glare, trying to convey a sense of urgency in his monotone instruction. _I am counting on you. Do not reflect poorly on me._ “And we will know if you are lying.”

Starscream huffed and crossed his arms over his cockpit. “I didn’t come online yesterday. What’s he _really_ like?”

The open threat clearly hadn’t registered. Soundwave considered a repeat warning, but they’d come too far in their arrangement to turn back now. And to be one of the few capable of answering that question was an honor, for how many could see into the gladiator’s very spark? “He is passionate but fair.” Soundwave palmed the door controls and waved the Trine forward. “He is the future.” 

The room was a furor of activity. Unlike the rest of the structure, it was bright and high-tech. Sensitive monitors and repair arms hung from the ceiling, each reaching to work on one of the many unconscious mechs propped on circuit slabs. Yet there was one mech dominating the room with sheer presence, making everything appear to revolve around him. He reclined on a slab, a huge mass of twisted wires and damaged plating. Multiple cords fed him life-giving energon and put his vitals on various monitors. He sat, with his optics offline, as though he were at a routine checkup. Rather than scratched and beaten and missing an arm.

Megatron.

Starscream’s jaw creaked. No sound came out, but his internal sensations were like a decrypted datapad, open and easy to read. Fans whirring, he projected the feeling of his feet being swept out from under him. Falling. The world fading away.

Soundwave executed a slow vent and tried to manually prevent his leg servos from buckling. He was dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of Starscream’s experience. In times like these, when he started to dissolve into someone else, anchoring himself physically could bring relief. 

And nothing grounded like a touch to Ravage. Automatically, Soundwave reached out a hand. It didn’t always work and the cat wasn’t always there, but more often than not, outstretched fingers would come to rest lightly on the top of Ravage’s head. As if hand and head were a natural extension of each other, two pieces fitting together.

His fingers bumped against something. Soundwave’s lips twitched behind the mask, and the space between his nervecircuits and Starscream’s adoration widened a bit. The cat must have slunk to the side at some point, unnoticed from the shadows. 

In front of them, the Seekers tried, and failed, not to gape at Megatron. ::Oh no,:: Skywarp said over the Trine link. ::He’s even hotter in person.::

An eternity of spark-pounding seconds passed before Megatron turned his sightless gaze towards them. “Hnnn…what do _you_ want?”

“Your request,” said Soundwave, somehow managing to keep his voice even, “for a flight-capable combatant?”

Megatron’s optics blazed to life. He gritted his teeth as a recently recruited Constructicon took a blowtorch to his arm. “Hrm,” he grunted. “You have one?”

“Negative,” said Soundwave. He gestured towards the jets. “I present three. Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Starscream.”

Starscream shivered, his mind projecting disbelief. Megatron was right in front of him, looking at him. Expecting a response. It was a moment he had no doubt fantasized about for months and now that it was here, he clearly had no idea what to say. A mixture of awe and gratitude infused his field, and his vocalizer stuttered on and off.

“Mmm…uhhh…Meg…” Starscream threw himself onto one knee. “…Megatron! I pledge my allegiance undying!”

Soundwave let the embarrassment flow past him. This wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed a mech have an…acute reaction to Megatron. It was quite common, although the spy considered himself above such things. The spinning of his own fuel pump in the gladiator’s presence was attributable to the mech’s pure magnetism, nothing more.

Starscream hazarded a glance upwards and locked optics with their leader. Kneeling between Megatron’s legs, he exuded a strange sense of power. A feeling of purpose rolled off him. Sweet and righteous after a lifetime of aimless wandering. 

Something of an amused smile graced Megatron's lips as he regarded the jet. Everything about him, from thoughts to posture to the resonance of his very being, took on a different hue. One Soundwave had never seen before.

“That’s the guy?” whispered Ravage. “He smells like a jerk.”

A stunning surge of intuition struck, the kind that broke down all the ways one thought things were. Soundwave set his receivers to pick up as much information as possible. Right here, in this moment, another revolution was taking place.

That might have been okay. The Seeker shamelessly ogling Megatron’s frame might have been okay. But then an errant notion wormed its way to the surface of Starscream’s consciousness. _That could be me,_ he thought. _Forceful and in charge. Making decisions. Everyone jumping to do my bidding. I could be a leader too. That could be me…_

Soundwave gripped tighter to Ravage’s head and schooled his features despite the mask. He swallowed against the bitter taste in his throat tubing. There was no room in their uprising for envy, but there was always room for wariness. Oh yes, hindsight was a new pair of optics. Perhaps this was a bad idea from the beginning.

 

~~~~~~

 

_Millions of years later.  
At the height of the war…_

It wasn’t impossible to find an inorganic bar in this part of the galaxy. The challenge lay in locating an establishment where a mech could conduct business without arousing interest. A place blind to Stentarian conflicts, Cybertronian factions, and one’s opinion on the ‘Androids-Built-by-Androids’ civil rights movement on Dendrite IV.

Starscream sipped on his Illusion Shaker and surveyed the room. _House of Tankir,_ he thought. _They should rename this place House of Tacky._

Purple prisms dangled on chains from the ceiling. The walls sported an electro-etched paisley design that ceased being popular when Nominus was Prime. The closer one sat to the bar, the stronger the smell of an engine backfire. It was like the owners decorated a millennium ago, and then forgot about silly things like trends changing over time. Or good taste.

Yet it was the terminal lack of aesthetic appeal that made the House of Tankir the perfect place for a secret rendezvous. There were few chairs, and fewer bots in them. Those that did throw a glance his way were obviously doing so out of appreciation, not recognition. One sly look and they were inspecting their own drinks and muttering to their comrades.

Starscream propped his chin on his fist and lowered his wings, trying to appear as unremarkable as possible. It was difficult to avoid attention when one was gorgeous but being spotted now could ruin everything. And with leadership of the Decepticons at stake, he was taking no chances.

After a moment, the door sprang open. Starscream’s contact shuffled in. The mech stopped in the middle of the club and clutched his briefcase to his chest, whipping his head around and making direct eye contact with almost everyone. 

Starscream suppressed a groan and waved him over. Dealing with the undercover Autobot weapons designer always brought mixed results. Sometimes his information seemed promising, sometimes it was intelligence the Decepticons already had. But he was easy to figure out, an arrogant exterior hiding some personal issue. Insecurity. Tragedy. The details didn’t matter. A mech who was easy to read was a mech who was easy to manipulate. Starscream’s favorite kind of person.

“Brainstorm,” he said as the other jet approached the table. “You’re late.”

“More like you’re early.” Brainstorm pulled out a chair and sat, wincing as the legs scraped against the floor. He looked around again as if scared that the noise would give him away.

“Were you seen?” asked Starscream.

“No.”

“I took the liberty of ordering you a drink.” Starscream slouched into his seat. A dash of harmlessness with a side order of ego stroking and the scientist would be drinking out of his hand. He pushed a cube of fizzing blue liquid towards Brainstorm. “A triple-filtered Galaxy Spiral, right? That’s what all you geniuses like.”

Brainstorm visibly relaxed and nodded. He took the drink but didn’t remove his mask, instead playing with the metallic straw.

Starscream had planned on more small talk, but couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “Do you have them?”

“Yeah.” Brainstorm reached into his subspace, pulled out a plain metal box, and placed it on the table between them. “I’m calling this invention…” He paused, no doubt for suspense, although the moment lasted long enough to leap from suspenseful to annoying. Finally he said, “a Gravity Initiator. It’s a working title.” He opened the box and took out a circle of black plastic.

The device looked as deadly as a doorstop. It was shorter than the energon cubes on the table, with a diameter less than half of Starscream’s smallest finger. There was a raised bump in the center. Starscream licked his lips. It was smaller than he expected it to be. Perfect. He could carry a lot of those in his subspace. That dawdling bucket head would never know what hit him. He reached for the plastic circle, the first key to his long-deserved supremacy.

“Careful,” scolded Brainstorm. He snatched the device away. “Sheesh, you’re just like my colleagues on Kimia. Why does everyone operate on the ‘see a button, press a button’ principle?”

Starscream tamped down a burst of irritation. “So how does it work?”

“For starters, don’t press the big round thing in the middle unless you really, really mean it.” Brainstorm flipped the circle over. The underside was flat, with three small holes. “Step one, put this side against something and press the button on top. A trio of sharp prongs will shoot out and keep it attached to whatever surface it’s touching.” He put the Gravity Initiator back in the box. “Step two, move away. Far away.”

“How far?” asked Starscream. He took another sip of his drink, optics riveted on the disappearing device. The expression on Megatron’s stupid ugly face when that thing burrowed into his plating was gonna be priceless. 

“Far enough.”

Starscream snorted. “Real helpful. I take it there’s a timer on it?”

“Yeah,” said Brainstorm. “About three seconds. Enough time to step out of range, probably not enough time for someone to tear it off. Probably.”

“And then it makes gravity?”

Brainstorm had an infuriating way of looking at people like their mere attempts to think were offensive. “It simulates mass, which in turn curves space-time. _That_ creates a localized gravitational field strong enough to immobilize almost any sentient creature. For a little while, anyway.”

“I thought the effect was supposed to last.”

“It’ll last,” said Brainstorm. “An hour. Maybe two. Nothing can artificially generate gravity forever.”

“Well then,” said Starscream. “I’ll just have to make do.”

“I’m sure you will.” Brainstorm pushed the box forward. “Here.”

Starscream reached for it, visions of his new crown dancing in his processor. “You’ve done a great service for the Decepticons.”

Brainstorm snatched the box back. “Seriously. Don’t touch the victim after you press the button, or the gravitational field will encompass you too. And make sure you store them securely. There’s forcefield pockets in this box that keeps them from bumping into each other and going off.”

“Don’t touch. Step back. Store securely. Got it,” said Starscream. His outstretched fingers were _itching_.

The scientist slid the prize forward again, but kept his hands on it. “I hope you realize how brilliant this is. These are so much more than a set of magnawheels or anti-grav locks.”

“I’m sure they are,” said Starscream. He grabbed the box and pulled hard. “Only a scientist of your caliber could have made them.”

“I came up with it myself,” said Brainstorm, still not letting go despite Starscream’s tugging. “Perceptor stole my idea, but I invented it first.”

 _Oh scrap, not this again. He is so transparent._ Starscream yanked the box into his possession. Hoping to avoid another one of Brainstorm’s creepy Perceptor rants, he asked, “How many are in here?”

“Five.”

“Five!?” shrieked Starscream, possibly just a bit too loud. “I asked for ten!”

“You asked for as many as I could make,” said Brainstorm. “I could make five.”

“Fine. Fine.” Starscream drummed his fingers on the table. Five wasn’t enough. Megatron, Soundwave, Overlord, and Black Shadow were all aboard the _True Believer_. That was four. What if Sixshot and the rest of the Warriors Elite showed up? Or Tarn and the DJD? Starscream tapped the table faster. He’d make it work. Once he led the Decepticons, most of them would fall in line anyway. And Black Shadow was always eager to take a bribe. He moved aside a piece of armor and put the box in his subspace. “You’re going a long way towards ending the war, Brainstorm. You’re a hero.”

“I know.”

“But Soundwave might get suspicious if I come back with nothing.” Starscream let the implication hang in the air. He needed something to legitimize this meeting. He needed information.

“Aha,” said Brainstorm. He produced a datapad and dropped his voice. “I intercepted this on Kimia. Looks like a high-speed organic ship is due to pass through this sector soon.”

Starscream took the datapad and skimmed the first few paragraphs. The notes were in Neocybex, interspersed with words in some organic language that didn’t translate. “One hundred miles? That’s a long ship.”

“And fast,” said Brainstorm. “They’ve improved their technology in the last couple of centuries.”

“How is this news?” asked Starscream. “If this ship is anywhere nearby, I’m sure Soundwave already knows about it.”

Brainstorm shoved his drink aside and leaned over the table to tap on the screen. The scent of ozone and chlorine streamed from him, like an accident at a laser blaster factory. “Look at the ship’s manifest,” he said. “They’re carrying a top-secret item deep in their arsenal. The codename translates as Totality.”

Starscream turned down his olfactory sensors. “What’s Totality?”

“My opinion? Besides an unimaginative yet ominous codename? It’s a weapon. A serious one. All that foreign writing is about _us_. Frame designs. Conjectures on how a spark works. Pieces of our programming. Not other mechanical races. Cybertronians in particular.”

Interest piqued, Starscream made another pass through the information. A weapon was always useful. “They’re studying us?”

“Enough to make something worth hiding,” said Brainstorm, “And here’s what Soundwave probably doesn’t know, I heard a rumor that Optimus Prime is leaving to intercept them. Maybe to negotiate something about it.”

Starscream’s hands tightened on the datapad, hard enough put a tiny crack in the edge of the view screen. Prime meeting organics out in open space? Didn’t he have people to do that for him? “A waste of time,” said Starscream, struggling to contain his excitement. If Optimus Prime would show up, Totality _must_ be important. “They want nothing to do with us.”

Brainstorm shifted in his seat. “If you had a mech-crushing organic super weapon, Wannabe Fearless Leader, what would you do with it?”

Starscream picked up his drink and took a large swallow. He put it back down slowly to buy himself some time. There was a right answer to this question, and it was in his best interests to tell Brainstorm what he wanted to hear. “I’d use it to end the war,” he said.

“Use it or _use_ it?” Brainstorm drew his hands apart, like he was expanding the air with his fingers.

“If you’re implying that I’d go on some misguided Megatronesque revenge rampage,” said Starscream, “I wouldn’t. You can’t rule what doesn’t exist.” He returned his gaze to the cracked screen, but hope of new technology made it hard to focus. “But I’d use it if I had to. Conquest is made of the ashes of one’s enemies.”

“Wow that’s deep,” said Brainstorm. “Were you constructed cold?”

“Excuse me!?” Starscream dropped the datapad and jabbed a finger towards Brainstorm. “Why do _you_ care, Autobot? There’s a thin line between categorization and segregation, and…” He trailed off, cringing. _Great. Now I’m quoting Megatron._

And so what? The old slagger’s ideas used to be good. Back when it was an honor to bow before him. Starscream’s fuel pump picked up, mind feeding him the charged, naïve fantasies of his younger days.

Brainstorm saved him further internal discomfort by saying, “What’re your thoughts on MTOs?”

“Empty O’s?” asked Starscream, now truly baffled. Did Brainstorm mean that roundish snack that Ammonites liked? “What…I dunno…they’re a little bland.”

The weapons designer just stared at him. “No. Em-Tee-Ohs. Made-to-Order soldiers.”

Starscream scowled. Another loaded question. To him, a loyal subject was a loyal subject. “I think they should be treated like everyone else.” There. That wasn’t even a lie. Equal subordinates under Starscream. “Where are you going with this?”

“Just intercept that ship,” said Brainstorm. “And remember, nothing can generate gravity forever.” His wings slumped, and for a second, he didn’t have the tightly controlled EM field of a brilliant scientist. He seemed sad and distant. “Not that any of this will matter soon anyway.”

“Are you scheming? You’d better not be,” said Starscream. “Leave the scheming to the professionals. Besides, I won’t need forever. When I lead the Decepticons, then Megatron will admit-"

“Oh, look at the time,” interrupted Brainstorm. “I’ve gotta go. Someone will notice I’m missing by the time you finish with one of your creepy Megatron rants.” He jumped up and loudly said, “No I will not interact with you, vile Decepticon.”

Starscream shrank into his chair. “Yeah, um…you’re…” He glanced around the room. Other bots were looking their way.

“You are my enemy,” said Brainstorm, even louder and more awkwardly. “I do not care what you want or need.”

“Frag. Me.” Starscream buried his face in his hands. “You are the worst double-agent ever.”

Brainstorm turned on a heel and made a hasty retreat. His briefcase clattered along the top of the table, knocking his untouched drink onto the floor and shattering the cube with a loud crack.

“Thanks for your service,” whispered Starscream to the scientist’s retreating wings. “Weirdo.” 

A waiter with wheels for legs rolled up to his table. “Oh dear,” he said, and began picking up the pieces of Brainstorm’s broken cube.

“Sorry about that. My friend is clumsy. I should help you clean that up,” said Starscream, making no move to get up and not meaning it in the slightest.

“That’s not necessary.” The waiter placed the pieces on his serving tray. Three more arms extended from his middle and began to vacuum and wipe the floor. “Would you like something else, Mister…?”

“Soundwave,” said Starscream. “I’ll settle the tab and take another Illusion Shaker.” He handed the server a gold Decepticon currency card that he’d recently liberated from Soundwave’s possession. “And you know what? Make it a double.” He flicked his wings and flashed a gracious smile. “I’m celebrating an upcoming promotion.”


	2. Chapter 2

Outside the bar, the rising of the second moon brought out the nightly drag racers, buymechs, and booster dealers. Starscream rebuffed no less than four interesting offers on his walk to the nearest public launch pad, including one that would have made even Skywarp shudder. Acutely aware of the box in his subspace, he eased past the evening’s lecherous business propositions with his blasters on standby. Anyone dumb enough to mug him would find their night prematurely terminated.  
  
He arrived at the launch pad, transformed, and flew to the hanger where he had parked his personal shuttle. With a syrupy threat to the control tower, he was given permission to take off, leaving immediately while those who had arrived before him still waited.  
  
The shuttle ride itself was uneventful, a clean break from the hanger followed by a rush through the atmosphere and into deep space. Starscream pushed the tiny craft as fast as it could go. Partly because he loved the speed, and partly because he knew Soundwave hated it. The TiC referred to it as “being intentionally reckless with Decepticon property.” As if anything bad could realistically happen with a Seeker at the controls.  
  
Halfway back, when radiation levels dropped and fuzzy pale strands of a far-off nebula appeared on the view screen, Starscream began to repeat three short phrases.  
  
_I am beautiful. Powerful. And faster than light._  
  
He focused on the sentences until they blotted out all other thoughts, whispered them as he programmed course corrections, and sang them as he delicately loaded the Gravity Initiators into his subspace. Only when the _True Believer_ came into visual range did the words finally die on his lips.  
  
Starscream looked at the view screen and emitted a breathless giggle. Megatron’s passion for his favorite warship infected everyone under his command. At almost twenty miles long and outfitted with the pinnacle of Cybertronian weaponry, it possessed a potent and terrible beauty. The _True Believer_ was battle-hardened and Decepticon-forged, just like the rest of them. From the lowliest soldier to Megatron himself.  
  
And it was soon to belong to one Emperor Starscream.  
  
He hailed the ship and didn't have to wait long before Ramjet gave him clearance to fly the shuttle into the nearest docking bay. After landing he went through a brief post-flight checklist, and disembarked to find Skywarp waiting for him as ordered.  
  
“Starscream,” acknowledged Skywarp in a short, clipped tone.  
  
“Clean it, detail it, and refuel it,” snapped Starscream. “But don’t change any of the damn flight settings or I’ll use your helm for target practice.”  
  
The frown on Skywarp’s face was almost enough to make Starscream feel a sliver of regret. As useless as his Trine had been lately, his spark experienced an unwelcome tightness whenever they weren’t getting along. He resented the feeling, and found himself coming down harder on them as a result. Thus the three of them didn’t get along more than they did. It was really Skywarp’s fault more than anyone else’s, followed closely by Thundercracker’s.  
  
Starscream forced a devious smile and patted his purple Trinemate on the shoulder. He sent a familiar pulse through their bond, one meant to convey _::we're Seekers, remember? Brothers. I lead, you follow.::_ After all, he would need Skywarp and Thundercracker’s support soon. And if it didn’t work out, he’d need someone to go down with him. Or, better yet, in his place.  
  
He made his way to the nearest elevator station and waited, fingers straying to the small panel to the right of his cockpit. Hopefully he had firmly tethered all five Gravity Initiators to his personal energy supply. He didn’t know what would happen if one detonated inside of him, but it would be a quick and humiliating end to his insurgency.  
  
Cringing, Starscream pushed the disconcerting thought away. _This time_ was going to be different. Usually he tried to remove Megatron first, and then handled the fallout with Soundwave. That had proved problematic in the past. Soundwave’s loyalty was a rust infection under Starscream’s plating, but if he neutralized Megatron’s sycophantic third-in-command without anyone knowing, then their dear leader’s most effective source of assistance would be gone. Leaving Megatron and Starscream to fight it out alone, the way it should be.  
  
The indicator lights on the control panel brightened, and a chime announced the arrival of the lift. Brushed steel doors whooshed open; displaying two things that Starscream was displeased to see.  
  
The first was a wide swath of charred and bubbled metal on the wall. It slashed across polished silver like an ugly open wound, a remnant of one of his many fights with Megatron. A fight that had gone exceptionally badly, as discharging a fusion cannon in a confined space tended to put everyone in a foul mood.  
  
Megatron had been _so angry._ Starscream’s flight sensors tingled with a pleasantly anxious buzz. The old fool had never had the wall fully repaired. Starscream supposed it was meant to be a warning. The entire ship was one spotless and sparkling surface after another, except this particular elevator.  
  
The elevator that Starscream seemed to find himself in most frequently, much to his great discomfort.  
  
The other sight was more irritating than distressing. A massive jet, far more cumbersome than a Seeker, leaned casually against the handrail. He spread his arms wide enough to take up most of the far wall, as though he needed the entire ship to prop up his laissez-faire attitude.  
  
Starscream smothered a smirk. The key to dealing with the Warriors Elite was to show no fear and take a Megatron approach with them. They fell in line every time. “Black Shadow,” he said, making sure his voice was dripping with disinterest.  
  
Black Shadow grinned, lips parting around an energon stick. “Commaaander.” He drew out the vowels like they were stuck to the neighboring consonants with epoxy.  
  
_He is one desperate affectation after another,_ thought Starscream. _And why does every one of Megatron’s super soldiers have some sort of oral fixation? It must be in the programming._ He stepped inside and entered the sequence for the command deck.  
  
The doors shut, leaving the two of them alone as the lift rose through the ship. Black Shadow continued to grin at him. “In a hurry?” he asked.  
  
“Something like that,” said Starscream. His mind whirred. Being alone with Black Shadow could be a stroke of good luck. Using a Gravity Initiator on someone who could be bought was a waste, but he needed to be somewhat discreet. Now wasn’t the time to make an outright offer, now was the time to probe the other jet’s loyalties. “Actually, yes. I’m in quite a hurry. Last-minute, desperate meetings will do that.”  
  
“Better not let Megatron hear you say that.”  
  
“Megatron’s the reason the Decepticons are so desperate,” said Starscream. He vented a fake huff. “It’s frustrating when things aren’t working, isn’t it?”  
  
“Sure is.”  
  
_Careful. Careful. Don’t give away too much._ “You know what else happens when things aren’t working? People don’t get what they’re owed.”  
  
“Now _that_ ,” said Black Shadow, pulling the energon stick out of his mouth and using it to point at Starscream, “is really frustrating.”  
  
“Isn’t it?” Starscream slid against the handrail and into Black Shadow’s space, making a furtive bid to read the superwarrior’s electromagnetic field. _And how bribey are we feeling today?_  
  
Black Shadow’s field was drawn in tightly but still prickled with regular, measurable pulses. The amplitude of his EM waves was increasing, and his optics flashed a deeper red.  
  
Starscream was no telepath, but those were encouraging signs. “All the botched plans. All the dead Decepticons. All our massive resources put to terrible use. Ships. Weapons.” He paused and dropped his voice. “Money.”  
  
Black Shadow was watching him with a gaze that could pierce titanium. “Yeah?”  
  
“Oh yeah,” said Starscream. He manually cycled his energy output lower and relaxed his posture, trying to tamp down any external emotional indicators. This conversation was being monitored. If Soundwave were listening in real time, it would be a major tip off that something was up. Propositioning Black Shadow in the moment could be very dangerous.  
  
Yet what were the chances that Soundwave was listening right this second? He had a whole ship and all of space to monitor, plus whatever ludicrous time-wasting thing Megatron had him doing. Sure, he’d review the recording eventually, but Starscream was planning on putting him out of commission long before that happened.  
  
A tease, then. Set the stage for a future bribe. Let Black Shadow know he had money, but maintain enough distance for plausible deniability if it all went bad.  
  
Starscream executed a command to release the latch on his subspace. He reached inside, failing to suppress a cringe when the edge of his thumb brushed one of the Gravity Initiators. Pulling out Soundwave’s gold currency card, he regarded it with a fake expression of wonder, letting it gleam and glitter in the too-white lighting of the elevator.  
  
For someone who loved gambling, Black Shadow had a terrible cyberpoker face. “Well, well,” he said, a hitch of static in his voice. “Watcha got there, Commander?”  
  
“All this money,” said Starscream. He slowly brought the card to his mouth and ran it along the edge of his bottom lip, ending with a gentle but playful bite on the end. “Melting a hole in my storage pocket.”  
  
“Lookin’ for a friendly wager?” said Black Shadow.  
  
“I’m looking for a wager.” Starscream treaded closer, until their cockpits were almost brushing. He hiked his chin into the stratosphere and kept his voice even. _No fear. He thinks you’re Megatron._ “But it’s far from friendly.”  
  
There. The tease. That was all he wanted. Yet as he was about to put the card back in his storage and let the matter drop, Starscream’s optics flicked to the seared laceration on the wall.  
  
_Megatron had been enraged, all his violent attention fixed completely on Starscream. His powerful hand had closed on a wing and wouldn’t let go no matter how Starscream had punched and struggled. The warlord had thwarted the assassination attempt and simply overpowered him. It had made Starscream furious, made his turbines spin out of control. It had made him feel-_  
  
Starscream abruptly brought the currency card back up again, into the tense and curious space between them. “One hundred million shanix to work for me.”  
  
The acrid smell of ununtrium wafted through the air. Black Shadow’s weapons systems powered on audibly. “I like you, Starscream.”  
  
“I like you too,” said Starscream. _Idiot._ “So what’s your answer? How would you feel about a new employer, one who has the best interests of both the Decepticon cause and your bank account at spark?”  
  
“My answer is I have to see it to believe it,” said Black Shadow. “But if you can actually pull it off, I could be in the market for a new job. For the Decepticons, of course.”  
  
“Of course.” Starscream palmed the card and put it back in his subspace faster than a Stentarian blackjack dealer. “For the Decepticons.”  
  
The elevator came to a halt, but Black Shadow moved between Starscream and the doors. “So what’s different this time?” he asked. “What makes you think you can do it?”  
  
“Because I’m beautiful. Powerful. And faster than light,” answered Starscream with a wiggle of his wings.  
  
Black Shadow’s optics roved over him openly. “Heh. Two out of three of those are true.”  
  
“They’re all true,” said Starscream. “And Black Shadow?” He placed his palm in the middle of the superwarrior’s chest. “You’re in my fragging way.”  
  
Black Shadow conceded with a chuckle, allowing himself to be pushed aside. He was still laughing when the doors shut.  
  
Starscream didn’t look back. He strolled down the corridor to Soundwave’s office, the insulated little rectangle that was a recipe for claustrophobia. Skywarp had once described it as a “creepy box of creepiness”, and Starscream was inclined to agree.  
  
But today it was the first stop on the road to a new empire.  
  
_I am beautiful. Powerful. And faster than light._  


 

~~~~~~

 

Filtering massive quantities of digital information was similar to pouring through thoughts and feelings, only without all the oppressive smells.  
  
Soundwave scanned the lower frequencies again, his attention ready to pounce on anything encouraging. After two months of no contact, it had become a ritual. Scan for galactic communications, hear nothing important. Scan for a spark signature, find no evidence. Experience a wave of disappointment. Tell himself this was a very bad sign. Shake it off. Tell himself that until he knew otherwise, he had to assume that his friend was alive.  
  
_Ravage._  
  
Soundwave reached out a hand to pet the cat on the head, but his lonely fingers just hung and twitched in mid-air. Ravage wasn’t there. He knew this, but reaching out was such an ingrained habit, and he could still feel a flicker of their bond. Like a loose wire at the periphery of his consciousness. Would he still feel that flicker if the person on the other end were dead? He wasn’t sure, so the search continued. With Megatron’s approval, the inquiry ran parallel to his duties, a dark shadow cast across everyday life.  
  
He paused to manually check his surveillance equipment. Around him, countless monitors cycled through every room of the ship. Soundwave’s office was compact, a simple room with a single chair. Every available inch of wall space was covered with monitors, speakers, or displays. Most of the information was fed to his private comm line, but he elected to see it on screen as well. The data was like an energon drip, steady and life sustaining. What would have been overwhelming in his youth was now a constant stream on which to focus. There were no external distractions in his office, not even the distraction of empty space.  
  
A quick inspection of the monitors yielded nothing unusual. Shockwave was working quietly in his laboratory. (He didn’t know that Soundwave was watching him, or he pretended he didn’t. And Soundwave pretended he didn’t know that Shockwave pretended not to know). Starscream was chatting with Black Shadow in an elevator. Skywarp was snickering while he changed flight settings on one of the short-range shuttles. Typical happenings aboard the _True Believer._  
  
It wasn’t that these things weren’t suspicious. Everything was suspicious. The monitors were merely displaying the normal levels of untrustworthy events. He flagged most of the data for further examination later, and brought his attention back to deep space transmissions.  
  
But the upper frequencies were quiet too. Nothing. Two months after Ravage had disappeared on an Autobot surveillance mission, and still nothing. Soundwave gritted his teeth behind the mask. _Keep searching. Don’t give up._  
  
He reset the scanner and prepared to start from the beginning again when, without any sort of announcement, the door slid open.  
  
Soundwave didn’t have to look up to know it was Starscream. The Seeker was a whirling tornado of emotion, all saturated colors and sharp feelings. It took a substantial amount of energy to stay focused when the jet was around, and it was second nature to immediately scan the electrical impulses firing from Starscream’s processor.  
  
_I am beautiful. Powerful…._  
  
Thinking about how attractive he was. Also a normal occurrence. At least Starscream wasn’t ruminating on some of his more…uncomfortable thoughts regarding Megatron. Soundwave acknowledged the Seeker with the slightest tilt of his chin.  
  
Starscream’s annoyance instantly coated the room with a bitter taste. “Have you found anything?”  
  
Tensing, Soundwave forced his fingers to land on the keyboard in front of him. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Ravage with _Starscream_ , of all mechs. “The meeting with your contact?”  
  
“It went well. I learned some very interesting things.” Starscream slowly sauntered forward, his hand brushing the side of his cockpit. “I was gonna share them at our briefing with Megatron.”  
  
_Faster than light…_  
  
Soundwave slowly turned to face him, surprised to see that Starscream had moved so close. There was something weird about him. Excitement rose off him in waves of yellow and green. His missile launch rails were vibrating. And he kept touching himself, digits slithering up and down the length of his cockpit. Every warning system in Soundwave’s programming was screaming, so he reached into the stirring eddies of Starscream’s mind again.  
  
_I am beautiful. Powerful. Beautiful. Powerful. Faster faster faster…_  
  
Relaxing a bit, Soundwave nodded. Maybe he was picking up on Starscream’s anxiety over their meeting with Megatron. The Seeker’s thoughts tended to fly when their leader was around, which meant another briefing thick with undercurrents of violent arousal and choking resentment. Soundwave opened a channel to Megatron and connected it to the room’s intercom system so Starscream could hear too. _Might as well get this over with._ Maybe afterwards he could have Megatron to himself to discuss the search. Or maybe even have that target practice that Megatron kept promising, letting Soundwave shoot him in his alt mode like he did with Starscream. “Are you ready for us, Lord Megatron?”  
  
Their leader’s harsh growl came over the speaker. “Yes. Meet me my office. Megatron out.”  
  
The entire tone of the room shifted. Soundwave was nearly knocked out of his chair by the power of the emotions assaulting him. Rage, lust, jealousy, and resentment disrupted his higher functions and set his innermost energon on fire. He gripped the edge of the desk and whipped his head towards Starscream.  
  
The Seeker just stood there, smiling placidly. Yet his thoughts flashed like neon signs on a crowded city street. _Megatron’s a fool…plans never work…when I’m leader._ He tapped the side of his cockpit. _I’m the best. He’ll see. I’m the only one worthy. Megatron, I want you to…_  
  
Soundwave struggled through the maelstrom of feeling, knowing that it would pass soon. Starscream never stuck with any thought process for too long.  
  
But then he heard it. Small and quiet. A wisp of a thought on the back of old fantasies. The universe grew elastic. Soundwave’s perception bulged on one end and contracted on the other before everything ground to a halt and all of reality snapped into one single, damning second.  
  
_This plan will work…can’t let Soundwave catch on…almost there…_  
  
Starscream’s smile faltered, and he shrugged. “Oops,” he said, both out loud and in his mind.  
  
Years of dealing with Starscream had taught Soundwave to disarm first and ask questions later, so long as he followed Megatron’s decree of “you may wound him but never fatally”. He stamped his feet to the floor, lowered his center of gravity, and launched himself out of the chair.  
  
The Seeker yelped and tried to dodge, but Soundwave followed his movements. They crashed into a row of monitors, sending pieces of screens sprinkling to the ground.  
  
Starscream head-butted him and grabbed his arms. “Gimme some credit,” he screeched while spinning them around. “I had you going there, didn’t I?”  
  
Soundwave’s back hit the other wall of displays. He punched, ducked, and punched again. His fist collided with Starscream’s helm, lightly buckling the metal in his hand, and then he dropped low to kick the back of the Seeker’s knee joint. _Keep him off guard. Keep him off guard. Speed is his greatest advantage._  
  
Starscream stumbled, but quickly caught himself and connected his elbow with Soundwave’s faceplate. He leapt on top of him, sending them toppling to the floor in a flurry of strikes and jabs.  
  
Rolling with the momentum of the fall, Soundwave flipped them over and landed on Starscream’s back. He drove his fist into the armor covering the Seeker’s spinal strut. Hard. Starscream shrieked, but immediately stilled when Soundwave planted one hand on his neck, and closed the other around the edge of a white wing. He pulled on it until metal creaked. “Cease your struggle,” he said. “I won’t hesitate to damage this.”  
  
Starscream snarled but held still. Geysers of piquant hatred spurted from his EM field. His mind moved so fast it was impossible to separate out individual thoughts, and the colors of his emotions ran together into a muddled brown.  
  
Soundwave settled his full weight. His faceplate felt loose, but he didn’t dare try to inspect it. “This attempt will end faster than all the previous,” he said. “Your disloyalty makes a mockery of the Cause.”  
  
“The cause is a mockery of itself,” spat Starscream. “Thanks to our dear leader.” He squirmed and bent his leg back, kicking at Soundwave’s side.  
  
There wasn’t enough leverage for an effective kick, and Soundwave held fast as the leg lightly banged against his plating. “Stop.” Before he could apply more pressure, there was a muffled hum, something akin to a strong gust of wind forced through a deep tunnel. Hot, searing pain engulfed his side, and he let go of Starscream’s wing with a grunt. Turning, he saw that Starscream had fired a heel thruster, spitting heat and fire all over both of them.  
  
Starscream threw him off and crawled away. He gracefully got to his feet, reached into his subspace, and whirled on Soundwave with an object in his grip.  
  
Soundwave struggled to get up, ignoring the fiery pain in his nervecircuits. He blocked an ineffectual punch and felt a sting on his arm. As he grabbed for Starscream, an urgent warning suddenly climbed his status queue.  
  
**Outer plating compromised, foreign body detected.**  
  
Soundwave looked at his arm. There was something stuck to him. Starscream’s weak punch wasn’t an attack.  
  
It was a diversion.  
  
_No._ He reached to pull it off, but it was too late. A strange little melody came from the device, and suddenly he couldn’t move. Something was pulling on him, pulling with such a force that he was helpless to resist. His knee joints buckled in slow motion. But rather than falling, he felt like the floor was rising to meet him as he fought to perform the basic action of lifting his arm.  
  
Soundwave collapsed, limbs heavy like he was under an ocean of lead. A growing list of failing systems scrolled across his HUD. First hydraulic pressure and transformation initiation. Then, more alarmingly, fuel pump rate and cognitive partitioning. A crushing paralysis crept over him as he watched himself shut down, until all that was left was a flicker of panicked consciousness. _Oh no, no no. How could I have let this happen? Lord Megatron..._  
  
Regret lanced his spark. He couldn’t call out, couldn’t send a transmission. _Why_ hadn’t he contacted Megatron the second Starscream had attacked? Why hadn’t he contacted Rumble or Frenzy?  
  
The dim sound of footsteps seemed miles away. “You think you’re next in line? You’re not,” said Starscream. “And you’re not his favorite either.”  
  
Alone and incapacitated on the floor of his office, Soundwave’s awareness shrank into a sliver of despair before he went offline.  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Starscream burst into Megatron’s office without announcing himself.

He quickly scanned the room. They were alone. Good. Unlike Soundwave’s workspace, Megatron’s was expansive. It was more than twice the size of Starscream’s quarters and completely empty save for a huge rectangular table, a few chairs, and a single energon dispenser. There was room in here to transform and fly, if it came to that. And it might. As the ride up the elevator had reminded him, fights with Megatron never went well in small spaces.

Fights with Megatron never went well in any space, but Starscream was planning to seize the first opportunity. Megatron wouldn’t even get the chance to touch him.

“Starscream,” said Megatron. He sat beneath a Decepticon symbol so immense that it covered the entire wall behind him. Yet rather than blot out Megatron’s presence, the emblem only served to enhance it. Like a spotlight shining on the revolutionary miner from Tarn who had torn through the arena and freed the minds of an entire people.

 _And then stalled_ , Starscream reminded himself.  _And took us backwards instead of forwards._ He rubbed the side of his cockpit and approached the table.

Megatron gestured to the seat on his left. “Sit.”

Starscream’s traitorous spark performed its predictable flutter, the one it executed whenever Megatron said his name. His designation was a deep rumble in Megatron’s mouth, like the syllables possessed a discernible taste. It made Starscream’s joints weak. For a split second, a familiar feeling breached the surface of his consciousness.

He didn’t examine it. Megatron was the past. Cybertron’s fastest jet was the future. He just needed to keep Megatron talking until the perfect opportunity presented itself. With a final tap to his cockpit, Starscream pulled out the chair and sat down.

Megatron scowled, his gaze flicking from the door to the other empty chairs. “Where’s Soundwave?”

“He got a promising lead on Ravage,” said Starscream. He hastily added a “Lord Megatron”, and then regretted it. Too much respect would tip the old glitch off. But too little might irritate him, and an irritated Megatron was an extra-hard-to-defeat Megatron.

“Why isn’t he answering his comm?”

“How should I know?” Starscream threw up his hands. “Do I look like his personal secretary?”

“You look,” said Megatron, glare deepening, “like a mech who should choose his next words carefully.”

“Ahem.” Starscream tipped his head, an ersatz apology that he hoped would suffice. “Forget about him,” he said, and pulled out the datapad Brainstorm had given him. He had already copied the information to his personal drive. It was too valuable to lose, but he’d lose nothing by using it to capture Megatron’s interest. A part of him was curious to see what Megatron would do with the knowledge on that pad. Would he approve of Starscream’s opinion to chase the organic ship? Would he  _finally_ support a plan created by his second-in-command?

Megatron picked up the datapad and skimmed through it. “This? This is your contribution? I’ve already seen this information, Starscream. Tell me your little jaunt into offworld nightclubs produced something better than this.”

A sudden coldness circulated through his core. “You…you know about this?” Reeling, Starscream squashed down the desire to shoot Megatron in his smug face. “Well no one told  _me_. And wait, half of this doesn’t translate. Are you sure you read through the whole thing?”

“I assume you’ve left out the translation so you could mock me,” growled Megatron. “A petty trick. Even for you.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” scoffed Starscream, all the while thinking  _I totally should’ve done that._

“Soundwave informed me of the organic ship in this sector,” said Megatron. “It didn’t seem relevant for you and your increasingly paltry efforts to the Decepticon cause.”

Humiliation burned through Starscream’s lines, collecting as an acrid taste in his mouth. He’d rather be shot than condescended to. “So we’re going to intercept them, right?”

“No,” said Megatron. The corner of his lip ticked upwards. “We’re going to Deimus.”

Starscream was on his feet in an instant.  “WHAT!?!”

Megatron’s fist hit the table. He stood so slowly that the mere process of towering over Starscream seemed endless. His inflection took on a dark, ominous tone. “Do you have a problem with my strategy, Air Commander?”

Starscream’s auditory programming warned him that this was Megatron’s ‘ _Back Down’_ voice. He kept going anyway. “But…but…Deimus is on the other side of the quadrant. And there’s a weapon on that ship based on research into Cybertronians. THAT’S where we should be going.”

“Where?” Megatron shoved the datapad into Starscream’s nose. “Show me amongst all this primitive script where such a weapon exists.”

Energon close to a boil, Starscream pushed Megatron’s arm away. “It’s under the codename Totality. I annotated it for you, but apparently you couldn’t take the time to pay attention.” This close, he had to crane his neck upwards to hold Megatron’s gaze. “Perhaps I should have annotated it twice.”

The familiar prickle of Megatron’s electromagnetic field needled at him stronger. Starscream suppressed a shiver. He was dimly aware that he should think about using the Gravity Initiator, but he had Megatron’s full attention. The old fool needed to understand why this was a good idea.

“Why do you think Totality is a weapon?” Megatron asked. “Where exactly does it say that?”

Starscream felt the ground beneath his argument turn into quicksand, but he kept his voice even and didn’t look away. “My source says it is.”

“Speculation.” Megatron tossed the datapad onto the table, putting another crack in the screen. “We’re playing the long game, Starscream. Chasing this cargo ship is a waste of time and resources.” 

“We don’t have to chase it,” pleaded Starscream. “We can hide in the Runeto asteroid field. It’s not too far away and the background radiation is high. It should disguise us from their sensors until it’s too late.” His fingers grazed the side of his canopy.  _Stop arguing with him and do it!_  “Optimus Prime will be there,” he said. “You hate him.” 

Megatron’s core temperature rose. The air from his vents heated the space between them. “Tell me how you know Prime will be there.”

“I…”

“The same intelligence that led you to believe Totality is valuable to us?” said Megatron. “Soundwave thinks this double agent of ours is still an Autobot at spark. Based on what you’ve shown me here, I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“But…”

“Our destination is Deimus,” said Megatron, optics fixed on Starscream’s hands. “The planet is nearing Phase Five of the Infiltration Protocol. Soon it will be time for Overlord and Black Shadow. As for Prime, attacking an organic world will hurt him far more than attacking the Autobots themselves.”

Starscream’s throat tubing constricted. He gritted his teeth and removed his arm from the edge of his cockpit when he noticed Megatron staring. “That’s what this is all about? Hurting Prime and dragging out the war with your stupid Infiltration Protocol? We should take action now against our _real_  enemies.”

Megatron leaned in closer, forcing Starscream to take a step back. His mouth welded into a thin, cruel line. His fingers clenched, actuators and servos creaking. Pure threat on the verge of a violent outburst.

 _No one can push him like I can._  Starscream hoped his nervous, excited swallow wasn’t loud enough to hear. Being the most effective at pushing Megatron’s buttons was a form of power unto itself.

Megatron slid a hand up Starscream’s neck and cupped the side of his face. His massive thumb brushed Starscream’s cheek. “You forget your place,” he warned.

“My place as a true Decepticon?” sneered Starscream. He tried, and failed, to suppress another shiver. “Half the fragging Warriors Elite are on board. We can take the organic ship and  _then_ go play pointless conquerors on Deimus.”

“Starscream.” Megatron cocked his head and spoke far too softly. “Where’s Soundwave?” In the skip of a spark pulse, his hand dropped to encircle Starscream’s wrist. He pulled him forward, nearly yanking his arm from the shoulder joint.

Pain flared through Starscream’s circuits. He yelped as he was hoisted upwards. Warnings sprung up across his HUD, telling him that his wrist structures wouldn’t take much more pressure. His fuel pump went into overdrive, and he struggled to reach his free hand into his subspace.

Megatron caught it. “And why do you keep touching yourself?” he asked. With the barest of effort, he threw Starscream away.

The room tilted. Starscream sailed through the air. He brought his stabilizers online, but it didn’t prevent him from crashing into the wall. His vision flickered and rebooted, blinding him for a moment as he hopped to his feet and aimed his shoulder-mounted guns.

Megatron tossed the table aside and stalked towards him, his footsteps thundering in the empty, frantic space between Starscream’s ventilations.

Disoriented, Starscream fired on him. Once. Twice. Three times, accompanied by a flurry of the most colorful insults he knew.

The first two shots missed. The last glanced against Megatron’s helm, searing part of his face and leaving a carbonized line of metal. It didn’t slow him down. He barely seemed to notice the injury as he crossed the distance between himself and Starscream in a few strides, grabbed him, and punched him in the shoulder before he fired again.

A jolt of real fear ran through Starscream, stronger than the pain. His weapons systems went offline, the sensors under his shoulder plates screaming. He threw a punch that probably hurt his hand more than it hurt Megatron.

Megatron lifted him, fixed an arm across his cockpit, and jammed a knee between his legs, pinning Starscream with his superior strength and weight.

Starscream struggled fruitlessly. He pummeled Megatron’s arm and tried to wriggle free.  _Why_  had he wasted time arguing? Desperate, he kicked at Megatron’s side, intent on turning on his afterburners. 

Megatron grabbed Starscream’s chin, forcing him to stare into his leader’s furious features. “If you burn me with your thrusters,” he said lowly, “I’ll punch clean through your spark and the wall behind you.”

Panic raced through Starscream’s wires. He tried to force his mind to stop whirling and think. With a few precious seconds and some distance, he’d be able to grab the device from his subspace. If he couldn’t fight his way out, maybe he could talk his way out. “Wait…mmm…uhhh…Meg…Megatron…”

“You pledge your allegiance undying?” said Megatron. His booming laughter assaulted Starscream’s audials. “I’ve heard that one before.” He trailed his other hand down Starscream’s cockpit, almost like a caress. “And to think there was a time when I thought  _you_  would be a worthy successor.” He wormed a finger against the crack where metal met glass. “Now what do you have in here, Starscream?”

Hydraulic fluid pressure dropping, Starscream’s insides twisted like hot rubber. Megatron was fiddling with the edge of his subspace panel. Had he been that obvious? “N-nothing! What are you…stop!”

Megatron chuckled and jammed his forefinger into the seam to lift the panel, easing his first two digits inside.

“Ah, don’t-“ Starscream started to thrash again, but Megatron held him tightly. He was trapped, hyper-aware of his leader’s digits dipping into him and a twinge of…something. Racing from the edges of his subspace panel right to his…

Starscream let out an involuntary gasp.  _Oh frag, oh no no no no._ A little buzz, pleasing and electric-warm, pulsed deep in his valve. His spark almost exploded out of his chest. This was NOT happening now. He’d rid himself of those feelings ages ago.

Hadn’t he?

Then why was his interfacing equipment asking for permission to come online?

Starscream’s frame felt too tight and his coolant reservoirs too dry. His tank churned, and frenzied distress trickle into his protests. “Let me go! You worthless old fool…”

“So you can unleash whatever you have in there?” asked Megatron. “I think not.” He wriggled his finger further into the opening and pushed the panel back with his thumb. The metal bent like a piece of foil, exposing a hole into Starscream’s subspace. Megatron’s optics blazed ruby red. A cold smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he forced his entire hand in, burying it to the palm.

The deepest nodes in Starscream’s valve  _throbbed_. The more he tried to wriggle away from the sensation, the more Megatron’s huge thigh ground between his legs. His twin engines revved in spurts, harder and faster until they were beyond his control. His turbines were blowing warm air all around them, and Megatron rooting around in his subspace felt…

Starscream bit back a humiliated whimper. It felt  _good._  So good that his automatic functions were starting to override his ability to form conscious commands. He canceled the protocols for spike extension and dialed down his overall valve sensitivity. His fans kicked into high gear, but they didn’t have much of an effect on his overall temperature. He couldn’t stop the little pulses of pleasure that Megatron sent tearing through his body, and he couldn’t smooth out his erratically fluctuating EM field, and he was getting so turned on by this and  _any second now Megatron was gonna NOTICE._

Megatron grunted, thrust him into the wall harder, and shoved his hand up to the wrist. He made slow circles, easing his thick fingers deeper.

Starscream never would have guessed that one would feel anything from a touch to the transwarp void inside the body. It was like a stroke to the very spark, straight from transwarp through the tether to his personal energy supply.

And it was  _Megatron_ doing it. Forcing him. Dominating him. The thoughts frightened and excited him more than the threat of pain ever could.  _I pushed him to this. I did that._ His processor fed him unwanted memory files, reminding him that bowing before Megatron used to feel good. And fighting Megatron always felt good.

But having Megatron’s hand stuffed inside him, thigh crushing his interface panel against the outer sensors of his tingling valve, felt better than anything.

“Don’t.” Starscream bat weakly at the arm holding him. He diverted all his energy to keep his spike from releasing. “Stop. Don’t…stop…”

“Scared?” murmured Megatron. “You should be.”

The sound of Megatron’s gravely timbre made Starscream’s turbines whine louder. Around the anxious recesses of his awareness, he felt the flexible petals under his interface panel grow wet and crackle with charge. Soon it would leak out onto Megatron’s leg. “My Lord,” whimpered Starscream desperately, “I beg you. Please…please release me.”

His shoulder hurt, the pain mixing with pleasure mixing with the heavy, foreign feeling of a subspace invasion. Megatron was a barricade of immovable power, and his field bled intoxicating anger and it all felt so fragging good that Starscream failed to prevent the moan that fell from his lips. A moan that held no traces of fear whatsoever.

And then his spike extended.

He heard the pneumatic hiss, although his rattled senses were sluggish in processing it. Time suspended as they both watched a thin trail of fluid slip from the head of his spike, travel down his flaring biolights, and run onto Megatron’s heated plating. Megatron froze, his lips rounded. Starscream focused on them. A reckless part of him wanted to capture them in a biting kiss. Instead he whispered, “Please let me go.”

Megatron jerked his hand free, dropped him, and stepped back. He pointed the fusion cannon at Starscream’s helm. “Another one of your games?”

In a heap on the floor, Starscream shook with humiliated fury. Ribbons of light skewered his vision as he scrambled to send the command to retract his spike. He didn’t want to look at Megatron, but he didn’t want to turn his back on him either.

When their eyes met, Starscream drowned in despair. His biggest error became clear. It wasn’t pushing an argument or even getting turned on. It was happening right now in his upset reaction. The naked honesty all over his faceplates. The inability to spit irreverent, disgusted laughter and play the whole thing off as a scheme.

Megatron was waiting for it too, pointing the gift that Starscream had given him with a look of grave unease. He was granting Starscream an out, setting them up to travel back to the familiar territory of mockery and resentment.

But Starscream couldn’t. He tried. His vocalizer was engaged but nothing came out. He wobbled to his feet with none of his usual confidence, painfully aware of the charge racing through his frame. In the few priceless moments available to regain his dignity, he tried to play it off.

He couldn’t.

For the first time ever, Megatron seemed devoid of any emotion but shock. His face was a mask of open surprise, fusion cannon gradually pointing away. “Are you-“ He interrupted himself with a synthesized cough. “Starscream, I…”

 _Now now now do it now!_ Starscream gnashed his teeth together. This humiliation was all  _his_  fault.  _Make him pay for this._  With a kick off the wall, he flung himself forward, pulled out a Gravity Initiator from his open subspace, and slapped it onto Megatron’s arm with a press to the button. He landed at Megatron’s feet and rolled away, twisting onto his back in time to see the silver mech frown at the device.

Megatron didn’t react fast enough. His hand was still en route when the Gravity Initiator emitted a cheerful little jingle and said, “You’re screwed!” in a voice that sounded like Brainstorm’s.

Starscream waited on eager thrusters. The device was quite fascinating to behold in action. As with Soundwave, there was a heavy  _thwung_  sound when it activated. The resulting gravitational pull was so strong, it diverted Megatron’s EM field into a visible oval that began at his head and flowed towards his feet.

But unlike Soundwave, Megatron didn’t fall down.

Apprehension clawed at Starscream’s processor. Megatron wasn’t  _that_  strong…was he? “Just fall already!” shouted Starscream. “Admit that I beat you!”

Megatron’s facial expression changed in slow motion, from rounded and shocked to a cold fury snarl. He fell down to one knee before Starscream and haltingly, as if fighting many atmospheres of pressure, reached towards him.

Starscream watched the approach of angry and powerful fingers. “How are you doing this?” he whispered. Soon Megatron would either grab him or fall forward onto him. Brainstorm’s warning echoed in the back of his mind.

_“Don’t touch the victim after you press the button, or the gravitational field will encompass you too.”_

Starscream transformed and fired his engines, scraping his back along the floor in a shower of sparks. He corkscrewed into the air and landed on Megatron’s meeting table, then transformed back into root mode with a flourish.

Megatron lay on the floor, one arm outstretched in front of him. The current around him oscillated a strange, visible white. His snarl remained fixed, optics dimming. 

“I beat him,” said Starscream, disbelieving the words. “I really…can you hear me, you rusted, virus-laden glitch? I. Beat. You!” He twirled on the table and, heedless to the pain in his shoulder, stopped in his best victorious power stance, hands on his hips with his chest puffed out and wings spread to their full glory. Satisfied with his position, he sent a ping to Thundercracker over inter-Decepticon radio.

Thundercracker opened a connection. “Starscream?”

“I need you to broadcast me throughout the ship,” said Starscream. “Visually. From Megatron’s office.” He scanned the corners of the ceiling, looking for the hidden cameras that he knew must be there. “You’re on monitor duty, right? Bring it up privately first and tell me which way to stand.” He rearranged himself on the desk, stopping to pose in different directions. “Tell me when I’m at a three-quarter turn. That’s my best-“

“You have Megatron’s authorization to do this?” interrupted Thundercracker.

“Megatron,” said Starscream, glancing at the prone mech on the floor, “isn’t in the position to be authorizing anything.”

“Starscream,” Thundercracker’s low voice dropped lower. “What did you do?”

“I took what I wanted,” snapped Starscream. “Like a Decepticon. Now put me through.”

“I can’t.”

“What? That’s an order!”

“No,” said Thundercracker. “I mean I really can’t do it. If there’s a camera in Megatron’s office, it’s under Soundwave’s control. We’d need access to his private monitoring systems.” 

“Oh,” said Starscream. Frag. He hadn’t thought of that. Soundwave controlled a lot of things, actually. Like security and communications. And hidden cameras.  _And recordings made by those hidden cameras._  “Scrap.”

“What about Soundwave?” asked Thundercracker. “Where is he?”

“Defeated in a challenge of speed and intelligence,” said Starscream. “Can’t you just, you know, hack his…stuff?”

“You want me to hack Soundwave’s stuff?” said Thundercracker dryly. “No. I can’t do that. I don’t think there’s anyone on board who can do that.”

Starscream clenched his fists. That meant that somewhere in the guarded digital vaults of Soundwave’s files, there was a recording of what had transpired. A recording of Megatron dominating him.

And how it had turned him on.

Starscream muffled a frustrated howl into a squeak. Why hadn’t he considered the full ramifications of removing Soundwave? He should have blackmailed him to get his access codes. Or promised him an empty lead on Ravage. Now he needed to get that recording as quickly, and  _discreetly_ , as possible. But before that…

“Okay,” he said. “Then broadcast me ship wide through this audio frequency.”

“Starscream-“

“Just do it!”

“Fine,” said Thundercracker. “You’re on.”

“Decepticons,” said Starscream aloud. “ _My_  Decepticons. Megatron has been defeated! Feast your eyes…” He faltered. Damn. They couldn’t see him. He should have said ‘feast your audials’, or just dropped the whole feast idiom altogether. Now he was locked in. “…on your new leader! I, Starscream, now lead the Decepticons,” he added for the idiots who needed clarification. “Meeting on the bridge in ten minutes.”

He abruptly cut the connected and turned to Megatron. “I wish you could see this,” he taunted.

Yet Megatron couldn’t see. He couldn’t abdicate or fight or bring Starscream to a frenzy of desire with a touch.

There in Megatron’s private office, Starscream got everything he’d ever admit to wanting. He spread his arms wide, basking in power.

All alone.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back with more of this, although I sadly realized that I already made a pretty big continuity mistake. In Chapter 3, Megatron mentions using Overlord and Black Shadow in the Infiltration/Phase Protocol. But we know Overlord chose option 2, and never became a Phase-Sixer. Drats! I am thus officially calling this an AU, which I will try to keep as consistent with canon as I can, but most importantly, consistent with itself.
> 
> This might be a bad time to shyly admit that I’ve never written something this large in pieces before. It really goes against my “have the entire thing complete and edited before posting” tendencies. Let’s think of it as an experiment, and I’ll promise not to make you wait another six months for an update.
> 
> Also, in honor of consistency, I just want to reaffirm what I've apparently established in terms of stylization and communication between and from the characters:
> 
> ::Trine speak like this.::  
>  _Various thoughts, memories, and flashbacks like this._  
>  "Comm calls over inter-Decepticon radio use regular speech quotes like this."
> 
> That's not too confusing, right?
> 
> If you’re still into this fic, thank you for your patience. Now sit back and see what happened next…..  
>   
>   
> 

If gaining control of the Decepticons was difficult, then keeping it was even more so.

Starscream exited Megatron's office and turned away from the elevators, taking the most direct route to the bridge. The nerve circuits in his shoulder still reported pain. Some of his internal systems were synchronizing badly. Yet he barely felt it, buoyed by the giddy power thrumming through his spark. 

He loved this part, the moment when rule of the Decepticons was up for grabs. Every second was electric and full of potential. He could almost _feel_ the change in the air, drunk with the knowledge that he could reach out and mold the future in his hands. And it was all _his._ He'd wrestled temporary control from Megatron before, but never like this.

It was happening. This time was already different.

After one of his early failed takeovers, Starscream had learned that a key to staying on top during these volatile post-Megatron moments was to cement authority with the troops as rapidly as possible. Most mechs responded to some mixture of inspiration and intimidation. It would take allies to achieve this, and gaining allies was all about making people think you were giving them what they wanted. And making them think it was their idea that they wanted it in the first place.

Having an ununtrium-covered super warrior on your side never hurt either. Starscream was counting on Black Shadow's greed outweighing his loyalty.

A Trine of elite Seekers would be helpful too. As he sped down the empty hallway, he pinged both Thundercracker and Skywarp. "You two wait outside the bridge. We're having a private Trine meeting first."

Thundercracker sent a response. Yet before Starscream could read it, the memory file of Megatron's shocked face rudely trampled across his HUD. Mid-stride, he cringed. _Why_ had he reacted to Megatron's rough treatment so strongly? It must have been a mistake, a corrupted directive or some misfiring signals or something.

_But he'd looked so shocked. Not angry. Not disgusted. Just surprised._

_"Starscream, I..."_

_What was he going to say?_

Starscream shuttered his optics, trying to clear the image. It didn't matter what Megatron would have said or done. What mattered now were the power exchanges that would take place over the next thirty minutes.

His wingmates were standing outside the bridge when he arrived. Thundercracker noticed him first and snapped to attention immediately. He wore an expression similar to what one would sport at a funeral, all frowny and stiff with lots of disappointed head shaking. Skywarp opted to remain slouched.

"This could be a serious mistake,” said Thundercracker.

"Yeah," said Skywarp. "And you're dragging us down with you. Thanks."

Starscream waved a hand, hoping to sweep aside their concerns with a gesture. He'd expected this. Thundercracker would need his skepticism, and Skywarp would need his selfish pouting. Best to let them vent, _briefly,_ and force the conversation forward.

"Where is he now?" asked Thundercracker.

"In stasis lock," said Starscream.

"Are you crazy? He's gonna kill you when he wakes up!" Skywarp’s optics glowed brighter, and he wrapped his hands around Thundercracker's wrists. "He's gonna kill us too, TC," he said, in a staged whisper that might have been considered conspiratorial, if Starscream hadn’t been standing right next to him. "He'll kill us if he thinks we helped him."

"It's all taken care of," snapped Starscream. _Or it will be, if I can get you idiots on my side quick enough._ With a theatrical sigh, he said, "Aren't you tired of this?"

"Tired of what?" asked Skywarp.

Thundercracker frowned deeper and dropped his gaze. He knew exactly what.

"Tired of fighting. Tired of _losing._ " Starscream sent pulses through their bond at soothing frequencies. :: _I lead, you follow._ :: "We should’ve won by now. You know it's true. We have multiple planet-devastating super warriors! And yet what are we doing, after _years_? Flouncing about the galaxy, making enemies of the organics and hoping we don't slag off Megatron. Is that what you signed up for?" 

Skywarp and Thundercracker shuffled their thruster heels and examined the floor.

"Power over the Decepticons must be _taken_. That was Megatron's own rule, and I took it. So you're either a true Decepticon with me, or you're another acolyte drone of Megatron's." Starscream gently ran his agile fingers down the edge of Skywarp's wing. "And unlike Megatron, I actually reward those closest to me." He grinned, preparing to give Skywarp something he never knew he wanted. "That's why I'm promoting you. To third-in-command."

Skywarp's wings perked up. "Really?"

"Yes." Starscream gripped his shoulders in mock seriousness. "You're the best mech for the position. You're my Soundwave now."

"Oh. Um. I have no idea how to do his job."

"It's easy," said Starscream. "Just listen to the gossip and watch my back. Seriously, what he does is so overrated." He turned to Thundercracker. "And you're my second-in-command."

Thundercracker looked like someone had just kicked his pet turbofox. "So I'm your Starscream?"

"That's right." Starscream abandoned Skywarp's shoulders to concentrate on Thundercracker's wingtip, tapping on it in a manner that never failed to reassure his blue Trinemate. "Only, you know, not quite as clever. Or good looking."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Please. When have I not?" Starscream stepped up to the doors, his fuel pump churning. Eustress lifted his wings up his back. The Decepticons would follow him. They _would._ With a long, slow vent, he onlined his propulsion systems and lazily kicked back a heel, letting a small cloud of smoke drift around the three of them.

"What are you…?" asked Thundercracker.

Starscream waved his heel back and forth. "I want us enshrouded. For dramatic effect.”

"Oooh, good idea," said Skywarp. "Okay, but wait. Stop! That's too much. We don’t want them thinking one of us blew an engine."

"Soundwave doesn't give aesthetic advice," said Starscream, honestly having no idea whether Soundwave gave aesthetic advice or not. If he did it was probably in favor of a monochromatic lifestyle, or simply to simper, ‘ _As you command’_. "Let's do this."

They stepped forward, and the doors parted.

The bridge, normally a sea of flashing monitors and beeping consoles with no more than ten mechs, was now packed wall to wall with troops. It was a gathering of the _True Believer_ 's highest-ranking Decepticons, all of whom stopped talking the second the Seekers entered the room.

The Constructicons huddled near Megatron's throne. Shockwave stood quietly off to the side, publicly affiliated with no one. Black Shadow was sucking on what Starscream was beginning to believe was an endless supply of energon sticks, still engaged in his life's work of holding up walls by leaning against them. Various other soldiers were assembled in small cliques. Some were pretending to watch the monitors. Others were blatantly pointing and whispering. The typical commotion surrounding a possible regime change.

Starscream scanned the room and saw no Overlord. Not surprising, but disconcerting. If Overlord wouldn't fall in line, that made the acquisition of Black Shadow even more important. He crossed his arms over his cockpit and gave them a chance to gape.

All of the troops started talking at once.

"So you did it?" said Hook. He looked around nervously, as though Megatron would burst in and rip them all apart at any second. "No you didn't. Did you?"

"As I said, Megatron has been defeated." Starscream paused for a moment to savor the words once again. That would never get old. He should really think of some synonyms, but _defeated_ had such a nice ring to it. "We’re going to be traveling at maximum speed towards the Runeto asteroid field. There we'll wait for an organic ship, one that's carrying information about super weapons against Cybertronians."

Ramjet stared at Starscream with his ever-present sneer. "And why are we doing that?"

"So we can win this fragging war," said Starscream. "Intelligence reports that Optimus Prime will also be there. We're going to strike fast and hard, organic technology or not. One big push, everything we have, to tip the scales in our favor. We've waited long enough." He began pacing in front of the crowd, his hands laced together and resting on his lower backstrut. "Too long have we been manipulated by Megatron's empty promises. Too long have we fought and bled for nothing. _This_ will be the last stand of the Decepticons. And we will _win!"_  

If there was one thing any group of self-respecting Decepticons loved, it was a rousing speech promising victory. There was a murmur of lukewarm assent, although the corresponding faces looked reticent.

"Skywarp is your new third-in-command," continued Starscream. "Thundercracker is second. I'm your new leader, a title granted to me by Decepticon Law. Anyone have a problem with that?"

Ramjet pushed his way to the front of the group, despite Dirge obviously trying to pull him back. "Decepticon Law? What's that? And who says you're the one best fit to lead?"

Starscream didn't try to stifle the lethal grin stretching across his faceplates. _Excellent._ There were bound to be dissenters, and addressing them now would go a long way towards further assuring his power. The others needed to see him capturing chaos and shaping it into unquestionable order. As a strutless and easily defeated fool, Ramjet would be the perfect pawn.

" _I_ say I'm best fit to lead," said Starscream imperiously. "You think you can defeat me? I just bested Megatron!" He spread his arms wide, pleased to sense Skywarp and Thundercracker step to either side of him. "Does _anyone_ think they can defeat me? If so, try now. Otherwise, join me." He purposely threw a look at Black Shadow. "And feel what it's like to be on the winning side."

As predicted, Ramjet scowled and muttered but slunk away.

::See?:: said Starscream to Thundercracker over their Trine link. ::They're scared. No else is qualified. No one else is bold enough.::

::More like no sane mech wants the job,:: answered Thundercracker. At Starscream's sudden glare he sent a follow-up message. ::I'm being Starscream. I'm disagreeing with you.::

::Don't get fresh.::

Silence reigned. Most mechs found something interesting to look at that didn’t involve making optic contact. Blitzwing was pressing buttons on a navigational control panel and muttering to himself, clearly just trying to look busy. The Combaticons cast each other a few knowing looks, but nothing came of it. No one rose to challenge Starscream for leadership.

Finally, Black Shadow propelled himself off the wall with a rev of his enormous engine.

The crowd scurried to get out of his way. He lumbered through the gap of mechs and approached the Seekers. Taking the energon stick out of his mouth, he twirled it in his fingers like some sort of goofy baton, and shouted, "All hail Starscream."

Everyone immediately repeated the rallying cry. "All hail Starscream!"

_Yes._ They were woefully out of synch, but Starscream uttered a little groan of pleasure anyway. _YES._

Black Shadow clomped a friendly hand on Starscream’s aching shoulder and beamed at their audience. "Offer still stand?" he whispered.

"For you, always."

"I'm in."

"I knew you were a smart mech," said Starscream lowly. "I'll transfer the funds into your account after we secure Megatron and Soundwave."

"Deal."

Starscream scanned the room again. They were still short one jaunty blue giant. "Where's Overlord?"

"He didn't show," said Black Shadow with a shrug. "Probably took your defeat of old Megs personally. Want me to go get him?" 

Overlord would need to be dealt with, but there were more pressing issues right now. "No. Let him fume in his own fluids, if that's what he wants. I need you to round up Soundwave's friends, who I notice also aren't here. Disable them if you have to, but don't kill them. We'll put them in the brig."

"Gotcha."

Starscream dropped his power output slightly, securing his EM field as close to his frame as possible. It was time to get serious and start delegating. "Thrust, chart a course for the Runeto asteroid field. Let me know when we're close."

"Shockwave," he continued, purposely subduing the shrillness in his voice the best he could. It wouldn’t do for everyone to hear this. “Are you able to hack Soundwave’s communication systems?”

“It is possible,” answered Shockwave. “But unlikely. Soundwave is a communications genius.”

“Oh please,” scoffed Starscream. “Genius is taking it a little far, don’t you think? Look, we have inter-Decepticon radio but that’s it. I need access to the things he oversees. Long range comms. Visual feeds. Private security. Or…you know, recordings from Megatron’s office. I’m curious what he was working on.”

“That may be more feasible,” said Shockwave. “Megatron’s private files should contain copies of the recordings from his office.”

_Megatron’s private files._ Starscream let statement pass without commentary. Shockwave believed that hacking Megatron’s private files was easier than decrypting Soundwave’s workflow. “Okay,” he said. “Yes. Get me those. I want all of Megatron’s private files, but don’t look at them! That’s an order. Erm, as leader, I should be the one to review them first.”

“Very well. I shall attempt to retrieve the files, and access Soundwave’s networks.” Shockwave nodded his single optic. “Do you have information on this organic ship?”

Starscream hesitated. Allowing Shockwave to view the information could be helpful. But then again, allowing Shockwave to view _any_ information could be harmful as well.

“I am familiar with all types of weapons manufacturing,” said Shockwave. “I may be able to obtain something useful.”

“Fine.” Starscream pulled the cracked datapad from his subspace and gave it to him. He then pointed towards Megatron's command chair. "But first, that has got to go. A real commander needs a throne. Do we have any crystal on board? Or gold? Nevermind. Here." He sent a data packet to Shockwave's personal comm line, one containing his plans for an ornate throne and crown. "Can you make this stuff? It's your top priority."

Shockwave tilted his head as he examined the data. "I can construct approximate facsimiles. We do not, however, have any gilded titanium." He tilted his head in the other direction. "And I do not believe that 'regency crimson' is an actual color."

"It's totally a color. Make it happen. Then you can go work on...whatever it is that you work on." _That's probably eerie and weird_ , Starscream added internally. But it paid to keep Shockwave happy, or whatever vague feeling of satisfaction that Shockwave experienced. Starscream knew the scientist wouldn't ultimately work with him, but he wasn't working against him. That would do for now.

"Okay, all of you." He pulled his Trine and the Constructicons into a huddle. "Thundercracker, Skywarp, there are some modified inhibitor claws in the brig. Megatron kept them as a security measure for..." Starscream made sure that Black Shadow wasn't standing near them anymore. "For his super freak pets. Find those claws and wait for us there."

"What about us?" asked Hook.

"Get all your blowtorches, welders, and cutting tools," said Starscream. "We're gonna cut Megatron and Soundwave out of the floor and secure them in the brig."

Six green and purple mechs regarded him quizzically. "Huh?"

"You'll see," said Starscream. "I'll talk you through it."

A bevy of Decepticons jumped to do his bidding, and Starscream's frame felt weightless as he watched. Lord Starscream would be talking them through it. The processor that moved the limbs. And although an irritating part of him insisted on fantasizing about Megatron's powerful grip, it was good to be King.

 

~~~~~~

 

The shock of booting up cold jolted Soundwave to consciousness like he was attached to a megawatt cable.

Backlogs of information threatened to crash his primary processor. Nearby noises triggered fireworks of confusing colors that rose and faded before he could catalog them. The position of his body was unclear, and he couldn't tell whether the vague shapes surrounding him were the result of experiencing pain, or too many packets of neural feedback.

He tried to move his limbs, but they seemed detached and far away. Useless anchors that wouldn't rise to his command. He tried to call out, but his lips wouldn't move and the commands for his vocalizer were hopelessly lost in an expanse of corrupted signals and defrag routines.

Soundwave parsed through streams of data faster and faster. Something was wrong. The information was too jumbled. How was it possible to know so much and understand so little?

Finally, from the bedlam of error messages came his first confident thought.

_I cannot wait to beat the living spark out of Starscream._

The edges were rough, and it tasted too savory to come from his own garbled, desperate programming. The thought had a distinctive sound too. A gravely tone that sounded suspiciously like...

Soundwave's optics came online, and he was treated to the horrifying sight of Lord Megatron on his knees, his weaponless limbs secured with an inhibitor claw. His frown mirrored the line of carbonized metal bending across his helm. Around him, the air fizzled with a potent purple rage.

With an audible intake of air, Soundwave rushed to Megatron's side. Or he intended to. Yet his arms wouldn't move, and his legs were locked in place. Manual commands came back with errors. A cursory scan of his systems told him that nothing was internally wrong; he just didn't have the strength to break free from whatever was holding him.

He tried fruitlessly to struggle, and his sluggish mind soon supplied an answer. _The thing that’s holding you is the same thing that's holding Megatron. An inhibitor claw._ That would explain the weight on his back, but where were they? Part of the floor looked like his office, but he couldn’t locate the connection to his monitoring equipment.

Soundwave shook his head and tried to remember what had happened. He examined his command tree for long term memory storage, the files a tipped-over mountain arranged counterclockwise. Moving through them, concentrating more on color than straight naming conventions, he found and executed the directive to network his memory core.

When it linked, it was the most humiliating cold-start recollection that didn't directly involve Rumble or Frenzy. He remembered his office. A conversation. Then a fight. One he had lost.

That's right. Starscream had happened.

A great, unintended bleat escaped from Soundwave's throat, rattling up from his very spark and through lips that felt strange and prickly. His entire face stung, the nerve circuits hypersensitive. Yet awareness of physical sensations soon fell to a torrent of all-consuming shame.

He had failed. He had failed Megatron, failed the Decepticons. He could have stopped this, whatever it was. Now they were defeated, locked in what he now recognized as the _True Believer_ 's most advanced prison cell, and harnessed with inhibitor claws.

"My apologies, Lord Megatron," he whispered. "He tricked me."

It was amazing how much contempt Megatron could convey with a single grunt. His anger simultaneously flowed over Soundwave and appeared in front of him as if on a screen. Too complex to be a single color, it tinted the cell with varying shades of cool tones and spicy tastes, spiking in inspirational intervals. "A temporary victory, I assure you."

Their optics met, and through the wall of self-righteous fury Soundwave detected something else. A fleeting tendril. Surprise, perhaps? It was smothered with more outrage, but not directly over their situation. It existed on Soundwave's behalf, a feeling from Megatron reserved solely for him.

In any other situation, Soundwave would have been pleased. Flattered. But the loud, if unintended, image projecting from Megatron's mind destroyed any sense of pleasure. Megatron was offended for him, true.

Because he was missing his faceplate. Starscream had unmasked him.

That was why he was getting so much sensory feedback from his lips. That was why there was a tingle underneath his facial plating. Soundwave longed to place his head on the ground in shame. Instead he could only tremble lightly, as his ventilations rapidly increased and his hydraulic pressure dropped further. He was exposed. _Exposed._ His face, his secrets, laid bare.

The floor beneath him wavered. His insides were filling up with hot liquid, burning him. He couldn't escape the rising _everything_. Without the reassuring stream of data from the ship, one-pointed focus was far away. Panicked, Soundwave concentrated on the only thing available to him that was outside his own head, the rivets on the floor. He counted them forwards and backwards, divided them into evens and odds, groups of three, groups of two. There was an odd number, which meant there was a middle rivet, one with the same amount on either side. The floor and the panels and the rivets and the screaming noises and he was trapped and helpless and exposed and _no no no..._

"Soundwave!" Megatron's voice cut hard and deep, slicing through the shell of panic and extending fury as a lifeline. "We _will_ get out of this."

No one proffered hope like Megatron. Soundwave grabbed at it, nodding weakly.

"Can you establish communications with the ship?"

"Attempting." He tried to access the various channels. Communications. The Cassettes. He even attempted to open a channel to Shockwave, but nothing worked. No static or the blip of a failed connection. He was cut off. "Negative."

"Rumble and Frenzy?"

"Negative, my Lord." A fresh wave of despair hit him to say it aloud. They were but shadows in his mind now, like Ravage. "Can you transform?"

Megatron's shoulder twitched, but nothing happened. "No. You?"

Soundwave tried to engage his T-cog, which chunked once and was promptly shut down by the signal coming from the inhibitor claw. "No. It's on securely."

Megatron's optics flicked around the room. "At least he put us in _this_ cell."

"Yes," said Soundwave. He had built the room to Megatron's specifications. It was originally designed to hold the Warriors Elite, with special alloys and a cutting-edge force field that would prevent all communications from passing through. It was also the only cell that would hold Megatron. The warlord had been counting on that when he'd had it designed, so it contained a few special features of which Starscream was unaware.

If only they could move.

"What now, Lord Megatron?"

Megatron opened his mouth to answer, but shut it promptly when distant voices erupted from outside. They were heavily muffled, but one particular screech was unmistakable.

The door rolled aside, and in strutted Starscream. A gaudy and jewel encrusted crown sat on his head. He waved to someone outside. "Put them in there. I won’t be long." He then secured the room and leaned against the door with a smile that could have engulfed the entire quadrant. His emotions were a haughty white, so blinding that they could short out an optic.

"Hellooo, mechs," said Starscream. "Have a nice break?" He turned his attention to Soundwave. "I was just dropping your little friends off. They put up a good fight, but they were no match for Black Shadow."

Soundwave kept his lips pressed together. Begging was pointless. Starscream wanted him to beg for the Cassettes, or display offense at Black Shadow's painfully predictable vacillating loyalties. Refusing to grant Starscream the pleasure, he said, "Your crown: ill-fitting."

Starscream's shifting mood sizzled lighting fast, complete with the smell of ozone. He roughly grabbed Soundwave's chin. "I hope you don't mind that I had this removed. After all these years, I had to see what was underneath. And you know what? You are CUTE!" He ran a finger down Soundwave's cheek, threw back his head, and cackled.

"Faster than light," said Soundwave. "A clever trick. It won't happen again."

"Maybe not, but I have more clever tricks up my turbines."

"Similar to the device you used to disable us?" asked Soundwave innocently. "It worked well. Where did you acquire it?"

"Where did _you_ acquire such well-forged lips?" Starscream continued to leer and touch. His interest in seeing Soundwave's appearance was a tangible, living thing. It wormed into his cassette deck cavity and brushed softly against his neck. The scrutiny was inexplicably distressing. Soundwave tried to squirm, to hide, but the inhibitor claw kept him dangling on the hook of the Seeker's authority.

"Starscream," barked Megatron. "Face me, you treacherous coward."

Starscream ignored him; no doubt aware that to humiliate Soundwave was to humiliate both of them. "Awww...am I _embarrassing_ you?" He pressed his thumb to the lower edge of Soundwave's lip, twin engines humming. "No wonder you wear that mask all the time, with a face as adorable as yours."

The smell of Starscream's jubilation was caustic. Soundwave wanted to scream. They were defeated, humiliated, and left in a dire situation with little recourse. It reminded him of the days before Ravage and the others. The days before the arena, before Megatron and those powerful words that had set them all free.

_"Defiance is always an option. They want you to think that defiance is only possible on the back of rising momentum. In this, you are being deceived.”_

Remembering the words caused Soundwave to part his lips in a slow, genuine smile. "I look forward to seeing you lose."

"Hmpfh." Starscream shoved his face away, affront quickly sinking into boredom, and turned on Megatron. He knelt at Megatron's right hand side and softly murmured, "And you. You'll be honored to know that your soldiers caved to me so easily. Like they'd been waiting for a chance to follow their true leader."

The temperature in the tiny cell suddenly rose to no fewer than ten million degrees. Strangely enough, it seemed to occur only between Soundwave's legs.

Soundwave's spark performed the shudder that his body could not. He was used to feeling arousal wafting off Starscream, but not in an unmasked state. Shutting down an interface inquiry about a partner, he bowed his head as much as he could.

Megatron stared straight ahead. "Once again, your arrogance proves more powerful than your grasp on reality. Release me, Starscream, and I'll go easy on you." His face was a mask of disinterest, but the electrical impulses from his mind held something else. They tasted dynamic and charged. Megatron's lust was a powerful force, and combined with anger, it created a maelstrom of desire that could crush the defenses of any telepath.

But underneath that was something new, similar to a molten core beneath the crust of an organic planet. Confusion and resentment. Dense and roiling. Over Starscream.

Soundwave made it a policy to never look into Megatron's mind. It was a sign of respect, of his devotion to both the Cause and their Leader. But the impression that flickered through Megatron's thoughts was so powerful, it couldn’t be ignored.

_Starscream panicked and wriggling. Delightfully defiant, even on the verge of submission. Their faces so close. A moan that sounded like pleasure. And then Starscream's spike..._

Optics brightening, Soundwave gasped out loud. In that moment, he would have given anything to be able to transform into his featureless alt mode. So they'd had an...incident before Starscream had taken over. An incident that had allowed him to get the drop on Megatron, much to their Leader's fury and uncharacteristic embarrassment.

It was, Soundwave had to concede, bound to happen eventually. They'd been dancing around each other for centuries, building up resentment and arousal until they could barely stand to work together. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken this long. In the depths of his spark, he acknowledged a fiery stab of jealousy, but refused to believe it was an emotion of his own creation.

Thankfully, Starscream adjusted his crown and stood. "You're yesterday's scrap heap, Megatron."

"And you're going to screw this up," said Megatron.

"A bold claim from the one on his knees."

Soundwave was promptly assaulted by a vision of Megatron on his knees. Willingly. His mouth open, ready to lick-

With a strangled huff, he focused on the rivets in the floor again. Unsexy rivets. Lifeless hunks of metal with no violently erotic tension whatsoever.

"Ta ta, losers," said Starscream with a little wave of his hand. “See you at the execution.” He slipped out the door and shouted orders at the guards. It rolled shut, locking them in again.

"Do not despair." Megatron seethed, his ventilations splashing the room in red and gold. Yet when he spoke, he practically dripped pure fearlessness. "An opportunity will present itself."

It was the most hopeless situation they’d faced in a long time, but Megatron's confidence was as inspiring as ever. So it relieved more than a little of Soundwave's anxiety to simply monotone, "As you command."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you forgot: Fullstasis is the Cybertronian version of chess. [From TFWiki](http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Cybertronian_games#Fullstasis)  
>   
>   
> 

Processor flying at supersonic speeds, Starscream surveyed the battlefield. It was one of failed plots and complex carnage. The conflict had been relentless, but his adversary had made a few critical mistakes. The secondary mistake was to leave a large gap in his left flank, believing an outright attack would be vicious enough to make up for a poor defense.

The enemy's primary mistake had been thinking that he was a match for Starscream in the first place.

Black Shadow moved one of the game pieces in diagonal line, "And _that_ is how Blue Bacchus and I pleasured the entire brothel after we emptied Death Head's bank account."

"Cool story," said Starscream, politely abstaining from pointing out that the denizens of a brothel were supposed to pleasure _you,_ not the other way around. He strongly suspected that ‘brothel’ really meant ‘each other’. But Black Shadow was always dodgy when it came to describing his relationship with his partner in crime.

Next to him, Shockwave droned on. “I will soon have access to Megatron’s files, although I am no closer to decrypting Soundwave’s surveillance systems.”

“Keep trying,” said Starscream.

“I would make faster progress if Soundwave could be convinced to cooperate.”

Starscream moved one of his pieces horizontally and evaded looking at Shockwave. He knew what the scientist was suggesting, and it left an uncomfortable itch in his lines. “No torture. It’s an unreliable waste of time. 

"What do you plan to do about Megatron?" asked Shockwave. "Is execution your intent?"

"No," said Starscream. "I mean yes! Of course! I'm waiting for the right time. We can't get distracted when we're so close to acting against the organic ship."

"Leaving him in the brig is dangerous," said Shockwave. "Megatron will not go quietly."

"Thanks for that useful piece of info." Starscream moved his Quarg into position. "What about Overlord? Still moping in his quarters?"

"No one has seen or heard from Overlord since you took command." Shockwave’s full attention was now fixed on the board.

Black Shadow took the bait and advanced a piece into attack formation. "Overlord is such a loser."

A little shiver rattled Starscream's circuits. "He's not the only loser." He delicately knocked one of Black Shadow's pieces off the board. "Quarg takes Vig. Fuuuuullstasis!"

Shockwave cocked his head and made a sound that wasn't quite a word, and wasn't quite a hum.

"Whaaaat?" cried Black Shadow. "How did you?" He stared at the board. "Damn."

Starscream leaned back in his chair and propped his arms behind his head. "Don't beat yourself up. I _am_ a strategic prodigy."

Frustrated growls left Black Shadow's vocalizer. He pounded an ununtrium fist onto the table, causing the pieces to jump. "Double or nothin'!"

"Oh, Black Shadow," sighed Starscream. "There's only so many times I can take back the money I'm paying you before this becomes too embarrassing for both of us."

Black Shadow pursed his lips and tapped his index finger against them. His optics took a leisurely, obvious ride up and down Starscream's frame. "What if I sweeten the pot?" he said. "I win, you pay double. _You_ win, and I'll give you a rare copy of one of Megatron's arena fights. Number nine."

Starscream's jaw dropped. "The one where Overlord rushed the arena and Megatron wiped the floor with him?"

"That's the one," said Black Shadow. "You can see Overlord getting kinda turned on by the end, even though Megs is demolishing him. It's so hilariously pathetic."

Starscream forced out a nervous snicker. Yes, getting turned on by fighting with Megatron was so pathetic. "Nice try but I know you're lying. There are no copies of fight number nine. The Senate seized and destroyed them all."

"That's what they wanted you to believe," said Black Shadow.

Number nine was the one fight of Megatron's that Starscream had never seen. He’d been detained on his way to the arena, and the coveted recordings had never hit the underground networks. Even Soundwave claimed they didn’t exist, an assertion that Starscream had never believed. The temptation was too great. "Set it up," he said, and then waved Shockwave away. "Keep working. I want those files."

With one last glance at the board, Shockwave turned to leave. As he exited the room, an urgent message flashed on Starscream's comm line.

“Skywarp to Starscream. Pick up.”

“Is this important?” Starscream responded. “I'm about to bathe in Black Shadow's humiliation.”

“Tarn is here.”

Starscream's fuel pump performed a quick contraction and dropped into his tailfins. He forced his engine to stop stuttering. _You have a plan for this_ , he reminded himself. _You have a plan for all of them._ Pinging the channel back to Skywarp, he said, “Wait until he's within range and then fire on him. I'll be right there.

“No. I mean he's HERE. On board the ship right now.”

Starscream gripped his Quarg so tightly, it almost snapped in half. "How did that happen!?" he demanded, both out loud and over the comm line.

“I'm not sure”, said Skywarp. “We still don't have access to Soundwave's communications systems, and these readouts are all confusing. There's some codes, and some other numbers. Here's a symbol that looks like an upside down V with two lines through it. What does that mean? And some more numbers. Someone must have bypassed a lot of systems to let him on.”

_Overlord_ , thought Starscream instantly. "That sheet metal piston head.”

Yet calling in someone else to do his dirty work didn't sound like Overlord. There was a mech who preferred a more hands on approach to violence. Regardless, Starscream addressed a baffled-looking Black Shadow. "Could you defeat General Tarn in a physical fight?"

"Tarn!?!” boomed Black Shadow. “The mech who gets weepy every time Megatron opens his mouth? Of course I can."

"Good." Starscream rubbed his hands together. "Because he’s on board. Here's the plan. Shut off your audio receivers and go to comm link only. He can't hurt us if we can't hear him. I'll keep mine on until the last second. When I signal you, beat him unconscious. We'll move him to the cell with Megatron." He chortled to himself. Maybe there were some forms of misery he could stand to inflict. Being in an enclosed space with Tarn was indeed a form of torture. "And Black Shadow? Fight dirty."

Black Shadow's EM field flared with pure delight. "I always do."

“Skywarp,” said Starscream over the comm link. “Contact Tarn and tell him we're in the Officer's Lounge.”

They didn't have to wait long before the clomp of heavy feet resounded through the hallway. Stealth was never General Tarn's strong suit.

The doors parted, and in walked Megatron's biggest fan. He entered the room with a rolling gait, treads spread behind him like a cape. His biolights illuminated him as a massive moving slab of purple and black that hefted a double-fusion cannon with ease.

This was the point were most mechs would be voiding their oil and vociferously confirming their innocence. While Starscream could admit to a vague sense of nervousness, his second-hand embarrassment was far greater. General Tarn's particular airs were always extra humiliating to witness.

The tank regarded Black Shadow with an utter disgust that managed to seep through the mask. "Black Shadow," he said. "Why am I not surprised?"

"General Tarn," said Starscream, idly twirling a Fullstasis piece. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"I came because I heard some...disturbing news," said Tarn.

Starscream feigned a gasp. "Someone else was crowned the universe's biggest music snob? This _is_ disturbing. Don't worry though. I hear Most Embarrassing Sycophant is still open." 

Tarn stepped towards them. The step turned into a roll midway as he transformed into a tank. By the time he arrived at their table, he had transformed back into root mode.

Black Shadow stepped up to block his path.

"Starscream," said Tarn calmly. "What happened to Lord Megatron?"

"The title of Lord belongs to me now," said Starscream. "And Megatron has been defeated." He stopped for a second to let the sentence hang in the air. Yes, it was still delicious. "I now lead the Decepticons, per the rules established by our erstwhile leader." He stood, but placed himself in a calculated spot behind Black Shadow's shoulder. "And being such a loyal Decepticon yourself, you won't cause any trouble over this. Will you, _General Tarn_?"

"Time to step off, Tarn. This is a game only the big mechs play,” said Black Shadow.

Tarn sighed. "Black Shadow," he said softly, his voice rich and affectionate. The tone one would use with a lover. "You always were such a disappointment."

The shriek that followed was a jarring juxtaposition to Tarn's sumptuous timbre. 

Black Shadow fell to his knees, his hands over the audials in his neck. His legs trembled, smoke rising from the seams in his chest as he continued shrieking like his spark was being torn in half.

_Holy slag._ Starscream's vague nervousness suddenly became a lot less nebulous.

"I doubt Lord Megatron will forgive this transgression," said Tarn. He hummed a few bars of some pretentious song that was only familiar to people who enjoyed naming obscure musicians.

He may as well have kicked Black Shadow squarely in the chest. The mech fell over sideways, convulsing. A stream of static and babbling desperation came from his lips. He clawed at the floor with one hand, the other gripping his chest as though trying to tear out a terrible pain in his spark.

"Turn off inter-Decepticon radio, idiot!" yelled Starscream. He kicked Black Shadow in the side. "What am I paying you for?!?"

Energon and oral fluid streamed from Black Shadow's mouth. The light in his optics grew dim.

"You think my domain is the spoken word only?" asked Tarn, with a thunderous peal of laughter. Then his voice dropped, and both out loud and through Starscream's comm line he said, "Once again, you are woefully misinformed." 

Too late Starscream realized that he hadn't shut off his own comm. He tensed, waiting for the jolt of agony.

It didn't come.

Tarn cocked his head. They both stared at each other for a few seconds.

Starscream turned his audials off, then on again. "Okaaay...."

There was the dry click of a vocalizer resetting. Tarn coughed static, and then he raised an arm, gestured to an invisible audience, and repeated, "Once again, you are woefully misinformed."

Nothing. The pain didn't come. _This isn't working on me? Should this be working on me?_ Without waiting to gauge Tarn’s response, Starscream raised his left shoulder blaster and fired.

Tarn nimbly dodged the shot. "Stay," he said to Black Shadow, as if the smoking, unconscious ball of parts on the ground were a threat. He then lifted his fusion cannon, twisted gracefully over Black Shadow's prone body, and discharged the weapon.

He paid for the theatrics with a blast that went wide. The enormous, crackling ball of energy hit the far wall and kept going, creating a hole that led into the next room, and the one after that.

"Are you malfunctioning?!" shouted Starscream. "Don't fire that in here! If you breech the hull, we could be sucked into space before the secondary shielding activates!"

Tarn growled, lunged for him, and hooked a hand over a wingtip. Whipping his arm around, he threw Starscream into the wide window, creating a disturbing crack in the glass. "Where's Megatron?"

Starscream was on his feet the instant after he hit. _Keep moving keep moving._ His pain sensors barely registered. He fired a series of shots at Tarn's upper body that left superficial damage, but didn't stop him.

The tank's footsteps shook the chairs in the room. He moved fast for a mech his size, bearing down on Starscream with all the fury of a true zealot.

Real fear seized Starscream's spark. _Don't run. He wants you to run. Attack!_ With a shout, he launched himself at Tarn's midsection. He threw an uppercut and then jabbed the tank repeatedly in the throat.

But the armor was too strong. The blows did nothing, and Tarn responded with a punch of his own. One that struck Starscream in the side of the head so hard, it sent him smashing into a bulkhead.

Sharp, tight pain exploded through his helm. His vision shriveled into pinpricks of light as his HUD rebooted twice. The taste of energon flooded his mouth, but the physical damage took a backseat to the panic rising in his throat.

Starscream tried to stand, but the servos in his knees locked. He blearily took in the huge mech approaching him again and remembered that he had a _plan_. He didn't need to beat Tarn in a physical fight. He just needed to get close enough without touching him.

Curling in on himself, Starscream shoved a hand into his subspace and palmed a Gravity Initiator. He held his arm to his chest and faked a series of weak afterburner flares. "I...I surrender."

Tarn stopped, clearly taken aback but also clearly not trusting him.

Cradling his arm, Starscream managed to push himself onto his knees with one hand. "I can't defeat you. Please don't hurt me." He whimpered and hung his head. "I'll tell you where Megatron is."

"You craven coward," said Tarn. He yanked Starscream to his feet by the wing. "Why should I believe anything you say?"

Starscream howled in pain that didn't need to be faked. "S-stop," he blubbered. "Let go of my wing and I'll tell you."

Tarn dropped him. "Where is Megatron?" he bellowed.

_Make this quick._ Starscream slapped the Gravity Initiator on Tarn's foot and rolled away. He kept moving, kept rolling, not stopping even when he heard Brainstorm's voice sing, "You're screwed!"

A confused and infuriated Tarn fell to his knees and tipped over helplessly. He convulsed a few times, and was still.

Spitting energon, Starscream managed a cracked smile. "You'll see him soon enough."

A little moan came from the other side of the room. Black Shadow lay prone and smoking, wings drooped.

Starscream glared at him, then shuffled to a chair and righted it. He sat down with a pained _urgh,_ just as Shockwave re-entered the room.

The purple mech spent a few seconds fixing his gaze on Tarn, unconscious and held fast by a net of artificial gravity. "You vanquished him," he said. "A unique device. May I study it?"

Shockwave's indifference sent a welcome burst of annoyed indignation through Starscream's spark. "Where the hell were you?!?"

"I was performing the tasks you requested of me," said Shockwave. He handed him a data stick. "The files from Megatron's security cam and private folders."

"That was fast," said Starscream, snatching the data stick and making it a point not to say thank you. He jutted his chin towards Tarn. "We turned off our comms. Why did his voice trick work?"

“His ship is no doubt nearby,” said Shockwave. “The DJD have a skilled communications mech of their own. He must have hacked inter-Decepticon radio, allowing Tarn to connect to your private frequency.”

“But…but why didn’t it work on _me_?”

"Because Lord Megatron instructed me to install a harmonic dampener in Tarn's throat to the frequency of your spark signature. As he had me do for himself."

Starscream’s throat tubing tightened. "Why?"

"I assume so you could not be hurt by General Tarn's voice," answered Shockwave. "A highly illogical move, as I told Megatron at the time."

Starscream offlined his optics and dropped his face into his hands. _Why_ would Megatron do that? Was he really that stupid, that he'd rob the leader of the DJD his greatest power?

_It's because he doesn't fear you._

But if Megatron didn't fear him, then why do it at all? Why bother?

His head was spinning. His wing and face ached. None of this made any sense. His spark pulsed with a fiery anger that had no suitable outlet, and a weird, fluttery feeling that he _refused_ to examine.

Shockwave interrupted his thoughts. "You cheated."

"What?"

"The game." Shockwave indicated to the Fullstasis board and pieces, now littered across the floor. "Black Shadow was cheating as well.”

“He was!?! That double-crossing cogsucker.”

“As were you,” said Shockwave. “But you were successful were he was not. How did you do it?"

"Heh." Starscream settled his heels on the nearest table, a thread of his normal confidence returning. "Get the Constructicons in here to cut out Tarn and bring me some energon, and I'll tell you."

"Do not confuse scientific interest for desire," said Shockwave.

"And you shouldn’t confuse an order for a request," spat Starscream. "Get him cut out. And tell Hook to bring his tools to patch me up. I'm not going to the medibay." This would need to happen fast. Megatron had awoken moments after they had brought him to the cell, far earlier than Soundwave. It made sense that the more powerful the mech, the faster they would recover from the effects of the Gravity Initiator.

Shockwave nodded. "Very well." He tapped his helm, and began relaying instructions to Hook.

Mollified, Starscream opened a channel to Skywarp. “Did you figure out who dropped the shields and let Tarn on board?”

“Wow, you're alive?” sent back Skywarp. “Where's Tarn?”

“He's having a nap.”

“Are you gonna put him in the brig?”

“Yes,” said Starscream.

There was a few seconds of white noise across the line before Skywarp said, “So, serious question. After you get the inhibitor claw on him but before he wakes up, can I laser scalpel something on his mask? An Ambus symbol or a depressurized spike or something?”

There was really only one correct answer to that question, but Starscream faked a few moments of contemplation anyway. He made it a point to never give in to Skywarp too quickly. Who knew where that would lead? “Yes.”

“Awesome,” said Skywarp.

“Could we focus already? Who dropped the shields?”

“I couldn't figure it out, so I called Shockwave.”

Starscream eyed Shockwave suspiciously. He had time to steal Megatron's files _and_ decode shield and shuttle bay commands? “And?”

“You’re not gonna like this, but judging by these access codes, it was another high-ranking Decepticon. We think...Starscream, we think it was Overlord.”

Starscream cut the call. Overlord had brought in _Tarn_ to deal with him? That was just insulting. He settled back in the chair and cursed. _After I oversee Tarn going into that cell, Overlord is a dead mech._

 

~~~~~~

 

Cutting out Tarn took longer than Starscream would have hoped. Megatron’s minion was inconsiderate enough to pass out on an uneven section of the floor, causing the Constructicons to waste time arguing about the best way to do it and retain the structural integrity of the Officer’s Lounge. The decision was eventually made for them with a few well-placed shrieks from Starscream, who instructed them to “do it already before I melt you all down into scrap.”

They hadn’t appreciated that, but kept working anyway. Except for Hook, who had set about fixing the dents in Starscream’s helm and rewiring the circuits in his damaged wing and shoulder.

Finally the Constructicons succeeded in excising a large slab of the floor around Tarn, which they picked up around the edges.

“Careful,” warned Starscream. He waved off Hook. “Don’t touch anywhere to close to him.”

“Yeah yeah,” said Mixmaster. “We remember.”

“Let’s dump him in the brig,” said Starscream. He stepped over an unconscious Black Shadow, still too annoyed to have Hook look at him. It wasn’t really his fault Tarn had beaten him, but after all the bragging, Starscream had expected a little more. He’d let Black Shadow come around on his own, and then feign concern for his well being later. 

Starscream marched them down the halls and towards the brig. Mechs scrambled to get out of their way, staring openly at the defeated DJD leader being carried towards incarceration.

_This is actually good_ , thought Starscream. _Let them all see me preparing to lock up the fearsome Tarn. This will further cement my authority._

In the few precious minutes before Tarn came online again, Starscream would slap an inhibitor claw on him, maybe exchange a few choice insults with Megatron, and then lock them all in together. A little museum of failure.

His plans were derailed, however, when they breezed through the entrance to the brig and towards Megatron’s cell.

“What the…” said Hook.

“Hol-ey slag,” said Scrapper. “That is somethin’ else.”

It looked like someone had detonated a bomb made out of body parts. Limbs were everywhere. Fingers were scattered across the floor. Internal organs, wires, and tubing hung haphazardly from cracks in the ceiling. Energon covered the emergency lighting, casting an awful pink glow throughout the hallway.

There was half a face tacked on to the wall. It was Techflash, one of the guards. His expression was frozen into a rictus of horror that seemed to say, “No. No please. Please don’t.”

Starscream’s fuel circulation rate went into the red zone. _Scrap. Bolts. Pit_. He threw every weapon attached to his body onto standby and inched, with the most dignified tiny steps possible, towards Megatron’s cell.

The door was rolled into the open position, so it was easy to peek inside. There, on his knees and fiddling with Megatron’s inhibitor claw, was Overlord.

So it was true. No wonder General Tarn had appeared when he did. The leader of the DJD made an awfully convenient distraction.

“Oh frag me,” whispered Starscream.

Overlord raised his head, and his outrageously pouty lips split into a wicked grin. “Maybe later,” he said, in a tone that was far too receptive and gleeful. “As you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't the first time Soundwave had whiled away the hours in a cell with Megatron.

He was determined to make it the last. If they managed to survive this round.

For the first ten hours, Megatron stewed silently. His thoughts were waves of crisp hatred, the peaks and troughs punctuated by violent reflections on Starscream. Every time the wave crested, the poet in him experienced a stormy excitement over Starscream's anatomical slip-up. Every time the wave dipped, the warrior in him writhed with a foaming ferocity. The speed of the oscillations made Soundwave’s head spin.

After the silent period came a lengthy and eloquent diatribe detailing exactly what Megatron was going to do to Starscream when he got his hands on him. He spoke lowly, as if more for his own benefit than Soundwave's. The sheer creativity of his proposed punishments was laudable, although Soundwave could see that the words coming out of Megatron’s mouth and the colors of his intentions were proposing two different things.

Soundwave chose to remain silent. He tried to ignore the sensory information coming from his exposed mouth components, the additional data adding to his sweeping sense of overwhelm. Everything was too bright. Too prickly and sensitive and open.

The physical discomfort of an exposed face was hard enough without the emotional discomfort. Starscream believed that to discover the secret of what lay behind the mask was to reveal a truth. In a way, that was one of the most humiliating aspects of it. As far as Soundwave was concerned, the mask _was_ his true face. To expose what was underneath was to swap a truth for a lie and proclaim it a victory. While Soundwave believed in the right lies at the right time, his face was a truth that Starscream would never understand.

But Megatron did. Megatron understood and accepted it without question. So Soundwave tried to tune out the screaming rush of his senses, and his wavering panic over losing the mask, in order to focus on their Leader. On his words and the strength he projected. Soundwave concentrated on it, and let the continuous surety that was Megatron be the frame that held them both up.

Eventually, Megatron worked through the surface layers of his Starscream-inspired rage and came back to plotting. "I can feel the stasis cuffs. The inhibitor claw. And what's binding my legs?"

Soundwave scanned Megatron’s restraints again. "Locking leg cuffs around your ankle and knee joints. Additionally: spreader bar hooked around your arms and a four-pointed riot restraint system crossing all of your limbs. They are made of an unknown material, but appear strong."

"Strong," grumbled Megatron. "Remove the inhibitor claw, and I'll tear right through them." His shoulder twitched, but nothing happened. "I'm assuming if you could rotate the locking mechanism on the claw, you would have."

Soundwave's prickly lips quirked. "Correct." Despite his accepting attitude towards telepathy, Megatron didn't always understand how it worked. Sometimes he seemed to think it had a telekinetic element, other times something more akin to remote projection. Not that Soundwave could blame him. At this point, he too was grabbing for anything that could give them an advantage.

He wasn't expecting that advantage to materialize in the form of two garnet optics peeking through the viewport to the cell.

There were voices outside, too low and muffled to be recognizable. Soundwave's finely tuned audio receivers picked up a, "No. No please. Please don't!" The exclamation was followed by a bevy of sounds that, though dampened, were best described as grinding, tearing, and squelching.

A burst of pink liquid hit the viewport and dripped downwards. Energon.

"I believe someone is mounting a rescue," said Soundwave.

"Who?" asked Megatron. "Shockwave? General Tarn?" At Soundwave's lack of response, a pungent expectation filled the air. "Sixshot?"

"Negative," said Soundwave. "It is Overlord."

In the depths of his processor, wrapped in the deepest electrical pulses, Megatron uttered the semi-irritated-semi-disinterested noise he always made whenever they had to rely solely on Overlord. The noise that sounded like a grunt that fell from the sky and died on impact. _Euhhn._

The wheel on the door jiggled a few times and began to turn.

"Overlord is obsessive," whispered Soundwave. "And there was not time to test his latest programming readjustment."

"We'll have to convince him to release me quickly," said Megatron, "before he gets any...ideas."

The door rolled open to admit the most feared mech on the _True Believer_ after Megatron himself. Overlord strolled into the room and gasped, bringing his hand over his mouth in faux surprise. His spark bled a convoluted mixture of jealousy and pleasure, making him resemble a walking jagged edge. Yet beneath the serrated exterior lay a thought process that was spherical and smooth. Soundwave had been a little taken aback the first time he'd seen it. That a mind could be so neat and calculating underneath such charged and ragged feelings. It was as if Overlord himself were an event horizon, the boundary that separated a normal sadist from something unspeakable.

Exactly the mind they needed to get out this cell. If they could keep control of it.

Megatron, as always, was unafraid. "Overlord," he said, "it's about time."

Overlord broke out in that strange cheeriness that cast a tornado of light-colored hues. "Apologies, Megatron. I was held up." He looked at Soundwave, and then gestured to his own disproportionate lips. "Your features, Commander. So delicate." 

Soundwave fought to keep said features neutral. "We are pleased to see you, Overlord. The Cause appreciates your loyalty."

"I'm sure it does," said Overlord. His optics took in the cell, the open door, and the pieces of their offices that they were kneeling on. "This is quite a predicament you've found yourself in." His disposition remained upbeat, but a volcanic eruption of variegated envy marred the surface. _Starscream? Starscream bested him? How dare he..._

Megatron nodded his head as much as he was able. "An unfortunate turn of events that shall be set right, with or without your help."

Soundwave shuttered his optics. Provoking Overlord could go either way, but Lord Megatron knew best.

"Oh?" Overlord ambled towards Megatron. "Perhaps I'll leave you to your daring escape then."

"Perhaps you should," said Megatron. "Or you can release me now, and earn your way into my good graces."

Overlord made a show of pretending to consider it, tipping his head and tapping his chin and humming. His thoughts, however, leapt and cut like a scythe, mowing down various scenarios of what Megatron's good graces would entail. 

"Break the lock on the inhibitor claw," said Megatron, without any panicked fanfare. "Unlike Starscream, I reward those closest to me."

With a rev of his engine, Overlord lowered himself to brush his cheek to the side of Megatron's face. "The spoils of war?" he murmured.

Megatron mirrored his tone. "Why wait? To follow Starscream is to accept defeat as a foregone conclusion. To slay me now is to pretend that his triumph is your own."

Overlord made a sour face, both options distasteful to him.

A quick flash of hope burst into Soundwave's spark. Lord Megatron _did_ know best. He always did. Or almost always, whenever it came to motivating someone who wasn't Starscream.

"Release me," said Megatron, "and the arena will be but a mere whisper of the reckoning that we, together, will visit upon this ship."

Fingers reaching towards the inhibitor claw, Overlord shivered and whispered, "Yes, Sir."

Soundwave let out a puff of air he didn't realize he was holding. This was it. The opportunity they needed. When they were free, the three of them would make short work of this embarrassing uprising, and Megatron would re-establish the Decepticon power structure once again.

"This is really on here." Overlord yanked on one of the claw arms attached to Megatron's shoulder. "Can't get a good grip on it."

"Just rip it off," snapped Megatron.

"It is more than a standard inhibitor claw," said Soundwave. "You must twist the lock twice and then pry it off from one of the edges. To use force will cause it to clamp down tighter."

Overlord began to fiddle with the lock, turning it the wrong way and trying to force it further. "That's strange. Why so complicated?"

Soundwave shared a quick glance with Megatron. Best not to tell Overlord that the claws were modified for bots such as _him_. In lieu of a better response, Soundwave blurted out, "Black Shadow."

"Black Shadow," said Overlord with a groan. "What does he do around here again? Besides gamble and put things in his mouth." He turned the circular lock in the other direction. "Hang on, Megatron. I'll have you out of here in no time."

From his position on the floor, Soundwave could see both Overlord working on Megatron, and out the open door into the hall. A fuel pump swayed from a large section of tubing hanging from the ceiling. There was oil and hydraulic fluid everywhere, some of which Overlord had tracked into the cell. With the door open, he could hear better too. The energon dripping onto the floor outside. The low hum of the ship's engines.

A barrage of squawks and curses.

Relief sent his radio wave sensors firing. He’d know the cacophony of his Cassettes anywhere. Rumble and Frenzy arguing with Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, each of them conscious and feisty in the cell furthest away. He still couldn't break through the electronic force field that prevented him from contacting them or the ship's computer, but he could hear their voices. They were alive. 

Soon Soundwave's receivers picked up other voices too. The opening of the main entrance to the brig. Footsteps, many and resounding. The Constructicons? But far too heavy.

"What the..." came a voice from outside.

Hook. It was followed by a tone that Soundwave had categorized years ago as Scrapper. 

"Hol-ey slag. That is somethin' else."

There was more whispering, and tiny hesitant steps approaching.

"Others are coming," said Soundwave.

"I've almost got this," said Overlord. There was a click from the locking mechanism under his huge fingers. "Ah!"

"Remove the rest of it," said Megatron. "Quickly."

Overlord didn't get a chance to do anything else before Starscream was easing his way towards the cell, guns drawn and mental state a whirlwind of screaming red. His jaw dropped at the sight of Overlord working on Megatron. "Oh frag me," he whispered.

"Maybe later," said Overlord, still cheerful as though seeing Starscream was just another welcome diversion. "As you can see, I'm a bit busy at the moment."

Starscream's mind took off faster than a Seeker launching into the atmosphere, free yet hyper-calculating. Internally, he proposed and discarded frantic scenarios almost too fast to read. _I could lock them all in, but then Overlord will release Megatron. They'll get out. Only a matter of time. Then I'll be stuck without a cell to hold Tarn._

Soundwave hung on the last sentence, trying to keep up with the information coming from Starscream. Tarn had shown up?

It appeared he had, as the Constructicons soon came into view behind Starscream, holding up a slab of floor with General Tarn on top of it. He was on his side and unmoving. Strangest of all, he was covered in a network of tangled electricity. It flowed in a visible field, from his head to his feet, binding him in a crackling electromagnetic cocoon.

All parties stopped and stared at each other for a few seconds. Emotions spiked and blended, sounds smelled like they would snap in the air. Starscream slowly slid his gaze behind him. _I could have them form Devastator._

Hook clapped Starscream on the shoulder. "Welp, I think our work here is done." He turned to his gestaltmates. "Is our work here done?"

Five heads nodded enthusiastically. "Yup. Done. Done? I think we're done here."

They dropped their prize, which slammed onto the floor. The mech attached to it didn't move.

"Get back here, you cowards!" Starscream yelled to the retreating Constructicons.

Unable to stop himself, Overlord burst into a fit of very un-superwarriorly giggles. His laughter resembled the final blips on a life support monitor. "Is that...is that Tarn?" He placed his hands on Megatron's shoulder and lay his forehead on them, chortling further. "Did you catch Tarn in a net?"

"Yes." With a final dirty look towards the entrance of the brig, Starscream drew himself up taller and straightened his crown. "Your little coup failed."

"Coup?" Overlord raised his head, confused. "What coup? You're the traitor here, Air Commander." He stood, his advanced hydraulics pushing him up with a loud hiss.

"No," said Megatron. "Finish removing it!"

"Don't worry." Overlord rolled his head on his neck cabling. "I'll handle this."

Soundwave shared another glance with Megatron and shook his head. This was not the ideal turn of events.

Starscream stepped inside with a bravado he didn't feel, the bravest coward that Soundwave had ever seen. The explosions of his thoughts were multi-colored fireworks. _Just gotta get close enough. Don't let him touch you._

"Overlord," said Soundwave. "He has a device which can deactivate you. Do not let him touch you."

"Always the informant," sneered Starscream. He reached into his subspace and palmed a small black disc. Stepping around the cell, he kept Soundwave and Megatron between himself and Overlord. As he passed, he delivered a sharp kick to Soundwave's side.

"Release me," demanded Megatron. "Overlord, that's an order!"

But Overlord ignored him, his EM field alight with flavors of revenge and brutal whimsy. He languidly followed Starcream's path, keeping his large strides slow and sure. They circled each other with Megatron in the middle. Orbiting around him, as Decepticons had for millennia.

Starscream stepped a little faster, cloaked in the heady scent of self-preservation. _Keep moving. Keep moving. You're faster. He lumbers. Use that!_

Overlord rubbed his hands together. His cogitation sequences were light amusement, a stark contrast to the somber colors moving around him. _First I'll tear his wings off and present them to Megatron. Or should I rip out his fuel pump and make him look at it? Or chainsaws? Chainsaws! Such choices!_

A deep sense of foreboding gripped Soundwave. Overlord was thinking about this way too much. "Overlord, release Megatron."

Overlord's lips turned down like two plump sharkticons. "Tsk, tsk, Commander. I'm hurt you think I can't take care of this."

Holding up the device, Starscream gave Megatron a good whack in the helm as he strode past. "The only thing you're gonna take care of is your lingering mortification when this is all over."

"How intimidating," said Overlord. "Know that when I'm done with you, the pain you'll have experienced will be legendary."

"And when I'm done with _you_ ," said Starscream, "there won't _be_ a legend. No one will even remember this. You'll be forgotten." He hopped over Soundwave's legs. "Cast aside." His shoulder mounted blasters hummed. "Just another loser."

The mention of defeat sent a waterfall of jittery anger rushing from Overlord's insides. "I'll never lose to you," he said darkly. "I'll tear you apart with my bare hands!"

Soundwave's wiring sizzled. "Stop!"

"I'll disassemble you and use your best features as spare parts," said Overlord.

"Don't!" shouted Megatron.

Overlord's stretched out an arm, almost close enough to lunge for Starscream. "I'll defeat you faster than..."

"Overlord, no!" said Megatron and Soundwave in unison.

Optics flickering, Overlord shook his head. He stopped and wavered on his feet. "I'll...I'll do something to you. What was it?" His massive frame trembled. He clutched at the side of his helm. "No. How can I..." 

There was a ringing thunderclap when Overlord fell to his knees. Desperation tinged his words. "How can I defeat you?" His targeting system spun his weapons in circles. He scratched at his face and muttered to himself. "How can I defeat you? What's happeningwhat'shappening..."

Megatron made the Overlord-related sound again. This time out loud. "Euhhn."

Soundwave couldn't help but echo it. The Achilles virus had seemed like a logical idea at the time, although he'd been unsure of programming it to include Starscream too. Clearly, the sensitivity threshold for weakness and strategic perception was set a bit too low.

A deeply unfortunate time to learn this.

"Okaaay." Starscream tiptoed towards Overlord, nervous and distrusting. He placed the black disc on top of the larger mech's helm, pressed down, and jumped back. "You're screwed, I guess."

The device repeated the words in a much more melodic cadence. "You're screwed!" There was a percussive sound, and Overlord was pulled onto his side. A white oval started to flow around him, similar to the shape holding Tarn.

_It's his EM field_ , realized Soundwave. The device was holding him in place and bending his field around him. When had Starscream obtained these? And more importantly, how many did he have?

Overlord flopped an arm on the ground, as though he would push himself back up. He trembled and twitched, trying to fight it. But soon his movements slowed, his optics dimmed, and he went into stasis lock on the floor of the cell.

Starscream stared at him, his own EM field a visible pulse of _pleasuredistresspleasuredistress_. He kept moving his mouth without saying anything. The colors around him oscillated between shock and amusement, and he turned to look at Megatron. 

Megatron met his gaze, his expression blank. But his emotions sounded like chagrin crossing the mudflats of hatred.

With a scoff, Starscream jammed his heel thruster hard into Megatron's shoulder. "Your excessively sized minions aren't as effective as you'd hoped!" He let out a peal of screeching laughter.

But Soundwave could see the dynamic vibrations of thought behind action. Starscream was freaking out, a cyclone of confusion as he tried to piece together what had happened. _Did Megatron program something to protect me like he did with Tarn? Why would he do that?_

Unbidden, the image of their altercation in Megatron's office crushed into Soundwave's awareness, this time from Starscream's side. The sharp and anxious burn of arousal, both exciting and humiliating. The feel of Megatron's strength and power. The firm knee nestled into the juncture between his legs, crushing his interface panel into the charged sensors below. How _good_ it felt to have Megatron hold him so firmly. Like he couldn't, wouldn't, _would never_ , let him go.

Soundwave noticed, with no small amount of alarm, that his own valve lubrication protocols had come online. That scorching fire between his legs was back. He let out an unintended groan. _Not this again..._

Outside the door, there was a low _thwing_ , like a projectile releasing from a taut bow. Three heads swiveled towards the entrance.

The net around Tarn was gone.

"Slag." Starscream ran to Tarn and knelt beside him, placing his head near the tank's chassis.

Megatron's mouth curled into an expression of absolute fury. His anger took on a life of its own, a veritable ocean that filled up the cell with saturated power. His fingers clenched and unclenched behind his back. His shoulder-

Soundwave gasped. _His shoulder._ "Megatron," he whispered. "The arm of the inhibitor claw is loose on your left shoulder." Starscream must have disconnected it when he kicked him.

Actuators working, Megatron tried to rotate his left shoulder in the joint. It swung back and forth. First a little, then a lot. The inhibitor claw shifted on his back.

"You're almost free," said Soundwave. "Struggle!"

Throwing his considerable strength into wriggling his limbs and rearranging his plating, Megatron gained a larger and larger range of motion in his shoulder. Soon the attached arm was making small circles, able to move more freely in the joint despite being cuffed behind his back. It wasn’t much compared to his obvious effort, but it caused a soft series of mechanical clicking sounds.

The inhibitor claw fell to the floor.

Starscream turned around, his spark plummeting. He jumped to his feet and started towards them, then hesitated. His mind was blank. Terrified.

Thrilled.

Without the power of the inhibitor claw, Megatron may as well have been held by smoke. He twisted his wrists, and the stasis cuffs came apart. He pulled his arms forward, snapping the spreader bar easily. The riot restraint system fell soon after. One giant leg stomped to the floor. Within seconds, he pulled and tore and snapped at everything holding him, shucking the restraints contemptuously aside. He stood, towering, unhindered by chains and bondage.

Starscream swallowed hard. His wings quivered, and he made a noise that Soundwave swore went something like, "Meep."

"Starscream," Megatron said simply.

Starscream scrambled to step back, tripping over Tarn in his haste. He landed on the larger mech and flailed.

There was a light chime from Tarn. He was coming back online.

"This is _over_ ," thundered Megatron.

A potent mixture of fear and lust made Starscream smell like he was on fire. He glanced at Tarn, and then took in Megatron with a sense of terrorized awe. A panicked notion lit up his processing signals. _One Gravity Initiator left..._ Raising his arm, he fired at Megatron with a shriek.

Most of the shots missed. Megatron barely acknowledged the ones that hit him. He laughed, his entire emotional pattern slipping into a structure that Soundwave had seen before. Violence was the tip of an iceberg of desire, one that existed beneath the surface of his awareness.

"When will you learn?" asked Megatron. "Shoot me, I am unyielding. Imprison me, I shall break free." He reached the entrance to the cell. "Starscream," he said, all resounding brutality and exhilaration. "No matter what you do, I still function."

Starscream looked from Megatron to Tarn frantically. His fans were whirring loud enough to hear in the next star system. But underneath it all, an idea flitted through his head. He hooked an arm through Tarn's tread and struggled to lift the tank's fusion cannon, propping it on his knee.

Halfway wedged into Tarn, Starscream popped a piece of metal at the base of the cannon and fiddled with a hidden control panel. He smiled at Megatron. "Wanna bet?"

His intentions read loud and clear. "Megatron," cried Soundwave, "shut the door. He's going to-"

Megatron stepped back, seized the circular handle of the door, and began to roll it shut. Just before it closed, Soundwave witnessed Starscream fire the double fusion cannon at the wall of the brig.

It created a fiery ball of energy that ripped a hole in the ship, and the pull of the vacuum sucked Tarn and Starscream into space.


	7. Chapter 7

 

The fusion cannon discharging so close to his head nearly splintered his audials.

And then, nothing.

Starscream clutched tightly to Tarn's midsection, one arm still threaded through tank treads. As they floated down the length of the _True Believer,_ the oppressive silence of space smothered all sound. There were no explosions. No voices. Nothing to indicate whether Tarn was coming online or not.

There was simply quiet. Cold and dissociating.

The shock sent Starscream's inertial guidance system into disarray. He couldn't trust his sensory information and flight readouts. They were moving forward on pure momentum, a momentum that would eventually carry them away from the ship and into the endless void.

He could survive out here, but not forever. If he floated away from the ship he'd be doomed. Provided Tarn didn't wake up first.

Contrasted with the bubbling, excited terror of facing Megatron, the fear of being out in deep space settled differently. It was less focused, a vague and dreamy feeling, like warm ice slowly spreading through his lines.

He hadn't had a plan when he'd shot out the hull to escape Megatron, but he had a plan now. Operation ‘Get Back Inside’.

Starscream opened the Trine link. ::Starscream to Skywarp and Thundercracker.::

::Where are you?:: responded Thundercracker immediately. ::There was a major hull breach. The decompression ripped out half the brig before the secondary shielding activated.::

::I'm outside,:: said Starscream, as if he were taking a routine flight.

::Outside the ship?!:: said Thundercracker.

::Yeah, and I need you to drop the main shields so I can get back in.::

There was a burst of static from Thundercracker's side of the connection. ::Can you get to the docking bay?::

::Doubtful,:: said Starscream. They'd already sailed past the docking bay, and he wasn't sure if his engines were strong enough to combat the momentum and keep pace with the ship. ::I'm approaching the science level. Drop the shields. I'll use Tarn as a battering ram.::

::That's a tall order, Screamer,:: said Skywarp. ::Dropping the outer shields takes more clearance than we have.::

::And it'll further damage the brig,:: said Thundercracker.

Starscream raised his head, taking in the view of the rest of the ship. He'd almost traversed the entire length of it. Soon he'd pass the research and development wing, the troop quarters, and then the rear engines. If he tumbled beyond the edge, could he trust any of them to come get him? Even if Skywarp and Thundercracker wanted to, they might face opposition from the remaining Decepticons.

The thought of being stuck in space attached to Tarn sent his fuel pump churning faster. ::Skywarp, drop the shields.::

Skywarp had the decency to sound slightly panicked as well. ::I don't know how to bypass everything to do that!::

Starscream's joints stiffened, like they were locking up. His cockpit glass felt brittle and his fuel pump, used to acting under the influence of gravity, began working too hard. It sent a rush of half-processed energon through his body, expanding the fuel lines in his helm painfully. _Don't panic, don't panic. Talk him through it. What’s the fastest way to drop the shields?_ ::Remember the codes you found earlier? The ones Overlord used to let Tarn on board? All the numbers and the upside down V with two lines through it? Use that.::

::Starscream,:: said Thundercracker. ::Dropping the shields will leave the entire ship vulnerable and-::

::JUST DO IT!:: Starscream sent the message with as much emphasis as he could, noting with alarm the warning across his HUD informing him of a rapid drop in core temperature.

::Alright. Alright. I'm re-entering the codes now,:: said Skywarp.

Thundercracker's tone was grave. ::If you do manage to break one of the windows, the secondary shielding will activate in that area if there's another breach. You're not gonna have much time.::

::Noted.:: Starscream unwrapped his legs from the tank's waist and let them drift to the side. He turned on his heel thrusters in short, controlled bursts, moving them closer to the ship. He trailed his free arm down. ::Skywarp,:: he said threateningly. ::If I get zapped by the ship's force field, I'm gonna come back as a ghost and haunt you.::

::Done! It's done. The shields are down!::

Starscream diverted all power to his thrusters. They continued to spin, his field of vision a dizzying ship-space-ship-space, until they finally collided with the hull.

Or General Tarn's head collided with a large window to one of the laboratories.

Starscream couldn't hear the crack, but the he saw the reinforced glass fracture under the unyielding metal and powerful force behind Tarn's thick helm. He reached his free hand to grasp at the edge of the inset window, fingers curling desperately around the lip of the metal frame.

On the other side of the window, Shockwave raised his head from a project. He stared impassively at the mechs outside.

"Shockwave," shouted Starscream, knowing that Shockwave couldn't hear him but screaming anyway. "Help me!"

For a moment, it looked like Shockwave might actually be of some assistance. He rose from his table, but then crossed the room and entered a narrow, freestanding cylindrical structure. A door closed behind him, sealing him inside.

"You useless parasite!" They started to bounce away, but Starscream gave a final push with his thrusters, raised Tarn's fusion cannon, and aimed towards the window. "Come on..."

The cannon smashed into the viewport, creating the tiniest break in the glass. But a small fissure was all that was necessary. The tiny break immediately burst into a large web, and then the window exploded outwards, along with half of the instruments in the lab.

A collection of measuring devices and tools battered Starscream. Strange pieces of equipment bounced off his frame, threatening to throw off his angle towards the ship. A chunk of a table went sailing past his head. Something floated by him that resembled a hollowed-out spark chamber.

"Gah!" Starscream released Tarn, turned his engines up to full power, and rocketed towards the hole in the ship. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, a cloud of polished Decepticon badges knocked him in the head, dislodging his crown.

With a whimper, he reached out. The crown was almost in his grasp, but then it slipped through his fingers and caught on one of the barrels of Tarn’s fusion cannon. He couldn’t afford to go after it.

Starscream flew into the ship.

Behind him, the secondary shielding activated around the breach, protecting the interior from the vast reach of space. The ship's gravitational systems took over again and forced him to dive into the floor.

"Ooof." Starscream jumped up. He was back inside, protected by the invisible force field covering the open window. His energon started to flow normally and he sagged, relieved.

From the center of the room, the door to the cylinder raised. Shockwave walked out and assessed the situation. Skywarp had always referred to the lab as "second glance freaky". Meaning it looked fairly normal upon first observing it, but upon looking again one saw the unusual body parts and out of place weaponry and schematics for something that couldn't possibly be safe. Now the laboratory was a mess, almost everything uprooted and demolished.

Shockwave stood emotionless. "You have destroyed my work area."

Starscream stomped towards the scientist and jammed his finger into Shockwave's chest. "Thanks for the help. Nice collection of badges and body parts, by the way." He gestured to the cylinder that Shockwave had exited. "What the hell is that thing?"

"An independently pressurized life pod," said Shockwave. "There was nothing I could have done to aid you without endangering myself as well. I assumed you would either break into the room, or you wouldn't. Entering the pod was the most logical course of action." At Starscream's gaping expression he asked, "Isn't your office equipped with such a failsafe?" 

"N..no," said Starscream. "Build me one!"

"Very well," said Shockwave. "I was informed there was a hull breach. What occurred in the brig?"

Starscream rubbed his hands anxiously. "Something happened with Overlord."

"I have heard that sentence many times," said Shockwave. "You will have to be more specific."

"I'm not sure. He...got confused or something. Then he collapsed and acted all weird, muttering to himself."

Shockwave remained detached. "Without empirical evidence, I cannot say what happened. I would posit that there was a problem with the Achilles virus."

 _Achilles virus?_ "What's that?" asked Starscream.

"Programming I created to rob one of their ability to perceive Megatron's weaknesses," said Shockwave. "He had me include additional commands to obscure Overlord's ability to perceive your weaknesses as well."

Starscream’s functions momentarily stopped processing code. "Why would Megatron do that?"

"I assume so you could not be hurt by Overlord," answered Shockwave. "A highly illogical move, as I told Megatron at the time."

Starscream gripped the edge of a broken table. Megatron had protected him from another of his own creations. _Again._ "Are there any other highly illogical moves Megatron made about me that I should know?"

"Many," said Shockwave. "Would you prefer the list chronologically or alphabetically?"

“There’s enough to form a list?” asked Starscream.

"I shall proceed alphabetically. A: Assassination Attempt. None are to be made by Soundwave without Megatron's prior approval. B: Bludgeon. Ordered not to seek retribution for the rumors you propagated regarding him."

"Those were all true!" cried Starscream. _True enough, anyway._

"Irrelevant," said Shockwave. "C: Combiner Teams. Instructed not to step on you no matter how tempting. D: Deadlock. Ordered not to fraternize with you and your Trine." 

"He can't even _hang out_ with us?"

"Deadlock is impressionable. D, second entry: Delusions of Grandeur-"

"Enough," said Starscream. "I've heard enough."

"Do you remain firm in your intention to attack the organic ship?" asked Shockwave.

Starscream nodded. "Yes." Really, it was their only plan now. He couldn't go back without losing all support from the Decepticons. "Did you learn anything from that datapad I gave you?"

"They are curious about us," said Shockwave vaguely. "And afraid."

"What about Totality?"

"It exists but its true nature is undefined. And it is indeed based on research into mechanical races. Additionally, from the notes on the datapad, I have reason to believe that the organic ship is carrying captured Cybertronians."

"What?!" whispered Starscream. "They have prisoners?"

"Possibly. Prisoners and information that could be useful to the Decepticons. I would need further access to their research. That is why I support your decision to attack," said Shockwave. "Provided that it remains your decision to make. What happened to Megatron?"

_Megatron._

Without responding, Starscream shoved past Shockwave and ran from the laboratory, dashing towards the bridge. Halfway there, he gave in to the jumpy sensation in his T-cog and transformed. Uncaring if he clipped a wall, or another mech, he flew as fast as he could down the wide hallways.

Fear reasserted itself. Was the ship irreparably damaged? Was Megatron still on board? Who could he trust at this point? So many Decepticons were power hungry. If his leadership projected some sort of vulnerability, they might not continue to follow. Or worse, they might start quietly plotting with each other.

If they hadn't already.

He transformed when he reached the bridge, going from plane to feet in a sequence of internal shifts. Bursting through the doors he immediately snapped, "Report."

Skywarp gave him a careful, calculated look before answering. "There was a massive hull breach in the lower decks. Half the brig was torn out."

"Secondary shielding is holding," added Thundercracker. "But we'll need the Constructicons to repair the damage before it permanently affects structural integrity on decks two through four. Also..."

"The brig was torn out?" Starscream shoved Thundercracker out of his seat and scanned through the damage reports. "What about Megatron's cell?"

"Out in space," said Thundercracker. "All the cells were ripped out except the ones closest to the entrance. I think Soundwave's Cassettes are in there, but I'm not sure about the rest. The Constructicons said Overlord showed up?"

"The Constructicons are a bunch of oily deserters," sneered Starscream. "Get them down there to repair it.” He punched up the codes for the weapons system.

"What are you doing?" asked Thundercracker.

"Taking out Megatron for good," said Starscream.

"Whoa. Whoa. Wait!" Thundercracker grabbed Starscream's wrist. "Hold on. You can't fire missiles near a damaged area of the ship."

Something hot and angry gripped Starscream's throat. So he couldn't trust Thundercracker either? It figured. _You can't trust any of them. Not now._ He shook off his blue Trinemate's hand and brought the ship's missile defense system online. 

A flood of memory files crashed through his processor. Each with a flavor, a desire, an inexplicable pressure that wound their way around his spark.

_Megatron! I pledge my allegiance undying!_

_"Scared?" murmured Megatron. "You should be."_

_"Are you...Starscream, I..."_

_"Starscream, I still function!"_

Little bits and pieces, a tapestry woven over the years. They flickered in front of Starscream as though they were happening in real time.

Hands trembling, he targeted the debris cloud and fired.

"Starscream, that's enough." Thundercracker touched Starscream's wing. "We need those."

Enraged, Starscream whirled and shoved Thundercracker away. "It's enough when I say it's enough!" he shrieked. "Or have you forgotten who's in charge here?" He turned back to the console and fired every missile they had. He kept pressing the button long after the missile bays were empty, his fans working overtime. "Take that, Megatron," he whispered.

When he finally stopped, everyone in the command center was staring at him. Thundercracker had his arms crossed over his cockpit, his EM field a mixture of irritation and disbelief.

Starscream regarded them disdainfully. Future usurpers, all of them. Refusing to show remorse, he pointed towards Thundercracker and Skywarp. “Oversee those repairs. I’ll be in my quarters.” He dropped his shaking hand. Forcing some degree of rationality into his tone, he said, "I need to...think leaderly thoughts.”

Everyone nodded mutely, and Starscream left the bridge. Suddenly exhausted, he headed to his quarters. He hadn’t recharged since before he met with Brainstorm, days ago now. He needed to rest. To be alone for a little while.

He needed a few hours that weren’t dominated by thoughts of the former leader of the Decepticons.

 

~~~~~~

 

In the midst of chaos, Soundwave found that he still had the capacity to be surprised.

He would have expected a vacuum sucking out all the air in an enclosed space to be a sensory explosion. A whoosh or percussive clap. Colors denoting a changing atmosphere. Perhaps the slightest scent of a few lone hydrogen atoms.

Instead, the void. As the hull of the ship broke open and Tarn and Starscream disappeared, in the few seconds before Megatron fully rolled the door shut, there was nothing.

It would have been a relief, had the sounds that followed not been deafening. Megatron had kept a firm grip on the wheel of the door, his great strength enough to hold it shut. Yet Soundwave didn't need to be staring out the viewport to realize that the walls outside the cell were ripping apart. There had been a series of crunches, and a sound like the fabric of reality unzipping. Then a set of explosions that rocked the cell so hard, Soundwave had been thrown from his position on the floor.

He'd tried to struggle, but limbs wouldn't respond. The inhibitor claw and restraints continued to immobilize him. He would have been thrown straight into Overlord, but a powerful hand had reached out and grabbed his ankle. Megatron. With one hand on the door and the other clutching onto Soundwave, Megatron had prevented him from rocking into the gravitational field around Overlord and going into stasis lock once again.

Eventually the cell had stabilized, the waves of colorful sound had quieted, and the scene outside the viewport became not the wall of the brig, but empty blackness and pinpoint stars. They were alive. The same force field and shielding that prevented Soundwave from using his telepathy had also protected them from the disintegrating hull and subsequent blasts. Now they were adrift, he assumed, in space.

"I think he fired on us," Megatron said, easily fracturing the restraints holding Soundwave. "Foolish glitch must have used our entire missile reserves."

Soundwave could feel his arms being freed, but he didn't have the strength to move them. "The attack seems to have stopped," he said.

"Their attack may have stopped." Megatron turned the locking mechanism on the inhibitor claw. "Ours is just beginning." He made short work of the claw, twisting and pushing the lock with a knowledge that Overlord hadn't possessed. Once it disengaged, his fingers brushed Soundwave's shoulder as he gripped the claw arm. "This will be painful.”

Eager to be on his feet again, Soundwave nodded. "Pain: irrelevant. Do it."

Without further warning, Megatron removed the inhibitor claw from Soundwave's back.

The jolt of pain was a harpoon through the spark. Soundwave gasped, fans picking up as he struggled to keep his composure through the shock of burning agony that raced through his neurocircuits and down his limbs. If Megatron had experienced this level of discomfort when his claw had fallen off, he'd given no indication.

A powerful hand curled around Soundwave's arm and hauled him to his feet. It slapped him encouragingly on the back, which was even more painful. "There you go," said Megatron. "Walk it off."

‘Walk it off’ was Megatron's solution to any injury. Missing a limb? Walk it off. Cracked spark chamber? Walk it off. On the verge of a total systems failure that would result in permanent shutdown? A few steps would be better than sitting there whimpering like some pampered Senator.

An Autobot probably would have found it cold. Soundwave found it inspiring. He took a few tottering steps, careful to avoid the prone and gravity-yoked form of Overlord. "I am fine."

"Good," said Megatron. "Now we can figure out our next move." His thoughts immediately turned to Starscream. They were accompanied by a dense and twisted mass of anger and turmoil. A whirling ball of all the complicated, colorful emotion he held for the jet. With a disgusted snort, Megatron shook his head. "I can't believe he blew a hole in the ship. What was he _thinking_?"

Years of experience had taught Soundwave that conversations such as this would require a contradictory mixture of bluntness and tact. "Starscream’s strength lies in creating chaos and being faster at sorting through it than his opponent. You are assuming that he had a plan beyond the immediate moment.”

"He planned all this," grumbled Megatron with a wave of his hand. "Those disabling discs. Our incarceration."

Soundwave bounced lightly in place, giving his joints and pneumatic systems a chance to acclimate to movement again. "True. But curtailing the reality of fighting both you and Tarn was more important than the specific details of how he was going to get back inside the ship. With Starscream, impulse often overrides intentions for the future." 

A _thwing_ came from Overlord's direction. The net of his diverted EM field disappeared.

Megatron flicked a glance towards him, but didn't openly acknowledge it. "So did he get back in? Does Starscream have control of the Decepticons?"

"A good question," said Soundwave. "Let's find out."

He shuffled towards the rear of the cell and pushed one of the panels. It slid back to uncover a wall-mounted spark signature scanner and keypad. The code was known to only two mechs, and it would only work if the scanner detected the spark signature of one of those mechs. The first was obviously Megatron. The second, Soundwave.

Soundwave stepped closer, allowing the scanner to read his unique resonance. When the light from the pad turned green, he keyed in the code.

Instantly, the entire cell transformed. Paneling pulled back, leaving complex controls and flight equipment in their place. A large view screen released from the ceiling. It flashed briefly, and then put up an image of the surrounding stars. Walls rearranged. Chairs transformed from the metal of the floor. A tiny energon dispenser appeared near the door.

Soundwave drew a cube of energon and handed it to Megatron. He then drew one for himself and sat down in front of the controls.

Synching his systems to the shuttle computer was more refreshing than the energon. Sweet, blessed _information_ flowed to his core processor. A data stream upon which to focus. Simple and pure, not overwhelming and raw like the thoughts and feelings of other people. Soundwave sighed, and let the trickle of information be the prism that focused his thoughts.

He ran every scanning program within the little shuttle's limited capabilities. There was a mass of debris and wreckage all around them, mostly tiny pieces of the ship. He noted quickly that there were no life signs of the Cassettes. Yet he could sense the soft pulse of their existence in his mind. They lived. Whether onboard the ship or out here in the wreckage, they lived. The ones that weren't Ravage, anyway.

Soundwave's fingers tensed above the control panel. Best not to think about Ravage now. He redirected his full attention to the readouts. To the familiar shape on the map drifting rapidly. "The _True Believer_ is moving away from us."

"Starscream?" asked Megatron, a hard edge in his voice.

Soundwave shook his head. "Unknown. I am not seeing his energy signature amongst the wreckage. He is either back aboard the ship, or he has perished."

Megatron scoffed. "Starscream's end is destined for my hand only." He hesitated as an idea trampled loudly into his mind. For most mechs, the arrival of a theory was either a slow dawning or something nimble and flitting. With Megatron, a sudden insight was akin to someone tearing down a door and beating you over the head with it. "Are they heading towards the Runeto asteroid field?"

"Hmm." Soundwave brought up a larger map of the sector from the computer's memory banks and cross-referenced it with the ship's current trajectory. "Yes," he said. "How did you know?"

"Starscream said something about hiding in the Runeto asteroid field to ambush the nearby organic vessel," said Megatron. “He said he had inside information that it was performing research into Cybertronians."

A growing unease ate its way through Soundwave's wiring. He’d told Megatron about that ship. If it held any strategic importance, surely he would have known about it. He hadn't been _that_ distracted by the search for Ravage. "Impossible," he said. "I knew no such thing. Where did Starscream get this information?"

"I don't know. I assumed he was making it up." Megatron's upper lip curled into a snarl while his left hand curled into a fist. "I almost had him," he said darkly. “When he tripped over Tarn, he was nearly in my grasp.”

Soundwave practically shrank in his chair. The weight of his guilt compressed his spinal strut into a small and shameful ball. First the possibility that he had failed in his duties, and now the reality that his mere existence had prevented Megatron from capturing Starscream when he'd had the chance. Megatron had closed the door to the cell on _his_ warning. If he hadn't...

"I couldn't have followed him anyway," said Megatron.

"Sir?"

"I couldn't have followed him anyway," he repeated. "My alt mode has no means of reliable propulsion. Starscream is agile in space. I am not. The disadvantage was clear. I had no choice but to close the door."

Megatron’s words were an authentic purple. He was allowing Soundwave to save face, to not be the reason why they were in this predicament. A war broke out deep in Soundwave's fuel tank. On one side was a light, all-consuming gratitude for Megatron's generosity, on the other was a quivering mortification that his distress had been that obvious.

Megatron flashed the briefest ghost of a smile. "The mask hides much, I see."

"I thought I was supposed to be the telepath, my Lord," mumbled Soundwave.

Megatron made a gesture to cup Soundwave's cheek without actually touching him. Another sign of unspoken respect. "I will return your true face to you," he said. "That's a promise."

Soundwave swallowed and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"What's wrong with your arm?" asked Megatron, jutting his chin towards Soundwave's outstretched arm.

Soundwave realized his fingers were hanging in mid-air. He had been automatically reaching for Ravage, looking to ground himself through his anxiety. "Kinks in the wiring," he said, moving his arm around a little for effect. "So what now, Megatron?"

There was a light chime, followed by the louder whir of a massive power plant coming back online. Overlord's optics flickered a few times. The sounds his body made tasted sharp and irregular.

Megatron's disappointment coated the room, dripped from the ceiling, and pooled on the floor in shades of gray. "I see someone is waking up."

"He will not be happy."

"He's not the only one," said Megatron.

"We will have to keep him focused," said Soundwave. "Perhaps omit a few key details."

Overlord's optics glowed a steady red. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, and then abruptly sat up. Looking around the room, confusion rolled off him unsteadily as his mind reasserted itself to its normal smooth and disturbing pattern. "I...what?"

"There was an altercation," said Soundwave calmly. "And an explosion."

The floor trembled when Overlord jumped to his feet. "Starscream," he said, gnashing the word between his teeth.

"Is Megatron's domain. And will be taken care of." Seeing that this did clearly not mollify Overlord, Soundwave said, "You fought well. The Cause appreciates your skill and power." He looked towards Megatron expectantly.

A stricken expression crossed Megatron's face. Complimenting Overlord was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead, he projected a vision of pounding Overlord into the floor, breaking his own fists on that pouty and sly grin.

Soundwave pursed his own lips. While he could understand Megatron's frustrations, a fight between the two of them would get them all nowhere. And it would probably destroy the very shuttle they were taking refuge in. He nodded towards the Decepticon Leader. "Right, Lord Megatron? Overlord is useful," he said, emphasizing the word _useful_.

"Yes," Megatron said, as though dragging out the affirmation from a locked safe. "Good...job, Overlord."

The sphere of Overlord's inner thoughts, usually smooth glass, outright rippled. Before a more complicated emotional reaction could take hold, he processed the rest of their surroundings. "You dragged me to a shuttle?" 

"No," said Megatron quickly. "The cell is a shuttle."

Overlord's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"The cell is a shuttle," repeated Soundwave. "It transforms." He disliked the idea of revealing classified information, but Overlord's shock and admiration could be an effective distraction. "On the off chance that anyone ever tried to imprison Megatron, we knew they'd put him in the strongest cell on the ship. Thus this one cell can transform into a shuttle, if you have the clearance."

The grudging admiration that bled through Overlord's EM field tasted like fine engex mixed with finer poison. "That's brilliant."

"Yes," said Soundwave. He looked over the diagnostics again and frowned. "Unfortunately, the engines were damaged in the explosions. We have scanning capabilities, shielding, and gravity. But no means of directed travel."

Megatron steepled his fingers under his chin. "What if we-"

He was interrupted by the proximity alarm. It buzzed a few times, and then something hit the side of the shuttle with a clang hard enough to reverberate the walls. The piece of debris appeared on the monitor. It was General Tarn, half conscious and pitted with superficial damage to his frame. A thin trail of energon drooled from the side of the mask. He slid down the view screen, and then slowly floated away.

 _Was that Starscream’s crown on one of his cannon barrels?_ Soundwave shared a look with Megatron, unsure which of them noticed and thought about it first.

A strangled keening sound came from Overlord, comparable to the low whine of a dental torture implement. It morphed into a string of gasping giggles that he failed to stifle. "Is that Tarn again?"

"He's injured," said Megatron. "Maybe a missile grazed him. Can he be repaired?"

"No doubt," responded Soundwave. "However, we do not have the ability to repair him here." He turned to Overlord. “And we still do not know how or why he arrived. Starscream seemed to think that you let Tarn onboard.”

Overlord recovered from his giggle fit. “Now why, Commander, would I do that?”

Soundwave’s answer was a cryptic hum. Nothing about Overlord’s demeanor indicated he was lying. But then who had brought Tarn into play? And why? In the Decepticon army, assistance rarely occurred without an endgame.

Uninterested, Megatron continued to examine the maps in front of Soundwave. In one direction floated Tarn and the debris cloud. The _True Believer_ headed in the other direction. He considered the information, and then his mind snapped into decisiveness.

It was always a sight to behold. When Megatron was decisive, armies mobilized. Planets shook. Social structures crumbled and rearranged themselves. When Megatron made up his mind, hope flared. "We cannot aid the fallen in this capacity."

Soundwave’s cassette deck ached. The fallen could also mean Rumble and Laserbreak. Frenzy and Buzzsaw. Yet he knew Megatron was right. They had to recover the ship. Without the power of the _True Believer_ , any survivors would be at the mercy of starvation, freezing, powerful radiation, or one of their many enemies.

"The ship, the battle, is our first priority," said Megatron. Again he was telling the truth, even if his mind also screamed _Subjugating Starscream is my first priority._ "Soundwave, plot a course for the Runeto asteroid field."

"As you command." Soundwave programmed the coordinates. "But how will we get there?"

"And what about Tarn?” asked Overlord. “Do you want me to fly out and get him?"

"No. We cannot help him now, and time is of the essence. We'll come back for him." Megatron rose from his seat, his very nature cloaked in power and authority. "But you can still be of service."

"Oh?" said Overlord.

"Yes," said Megatron. "Our day of reckoning is at hand. Our enemies will cry in anguish between our vengeful fingers. Our arena is now the entire universe, gasping and pleading under our heels. The power, the retribution, is _yours_ , Overlord. Are you ready for it?"

"Yes!" said Overlord excitedly.

"Excellent." Megatron deigned to lay a hand on Overlord's shoulder. With the other hand, he pointed towards the airlock. "Now get out there and push this shuttle."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some friends and I had a big discussion over whether or not IDW Megs can fly around in robot mode like in G1. We came to the consensus that no, he can't. Or at least we've never seen it happen. [TF Wiki seems to agree.](http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Flight#IDW_Generation_1_continuity) Hopefully that works for you, because that's the interpretation I'm going with!
> 
> Also soft science ahoy. Please don't use this fic to study for your physics exam.


	8. Chapter 8

On the bridge of the _True Believer_ , Starscream's luxurious throne failed to deliver its promised comfort.

He crossed a thruster heel over his knee joint and slumped lower. Shockwave had followed the schematics for the throne exactly. It was padded, with ornate armrests and a back wide enough to accommodate his entire wingspan. Colorful designs ran down the sides, depicting Seeker frames transforming and becoming airborne. The perfect throne for the perfect emperor.

Starscream reached up to adjust his crown and sighed. That’s right. It wasn’t there anymore.

Next to him, Megatron's fusion cannon was propped against the seat. Starscream cradled his chin in his hand and huffed, disgusted that he was resorting to Megatron's symbolism. A symbol that _he_ had given him. But it held power, he couldn't deny that. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, but he felt safer with it nearby. The untrustworthy soldiers serving under him wouldn't dare try anything with one of Megatron's most powerful weapons by his side.

He’d returned to the bridge after a brief rest, dragging the fusion cannon and a foul mood with him. Sulking in the throne took up the remainder of the journey towards the Runeto asteroid field. When they’d arrived, he’d ordered Thundercracker to hide the ship behind one of the largest asteroids, and then kicked everyone out.

Thundercracker wasn't happy. That was a problem. The least of Starscream’s many problems. He'd allowed Megatron, Soundwave, and Overlord to escape. He'd used up all their long-range weapons. And worst of all, he'd shown weakness in front of the troops. That was one mistake a Decepticon leader couldn't afford to make.

Starscream sighed, his wiring twisted by inescapable regret. He _loathed_ feeling regretful. Regrets were for underlings and lesser mechs. He was too good, too powerful, to be second-guessing his own actions. Like why hadn't he tortured Soundwave? Even if the information he gleaned turned out to be inaccurate, the action would have proven him as a mech not to be trifled with. More importantly, _why_ hadn't he executed Megatron when he had the chance?

But that bucket-headed has-been was dead, wasn't he? He had to be. An entire ship's worth of missiles had landed on his head. Nobody could survive that.

Right?

Starscream growled and kicked the side of his throne. Of course he couldn't really believe that Megatron was dead. He'd seen the mech survive way worse. Getting hit with a bunch of projectiles would only make him mad. Megatron always came back. Always.

His landing gear twitched, the sensation entirely unpleasant. If Megatron did come back, he'd need a plan. He'd need- 

"Information," said Starscream out loud. He did have Megatron's private files, after all. And he still hadn't looked at them. Reaching into his subspace, he pulled out the data stick that Shockwave had given him after the fight with Tarn. Maybe Megatron's private files contained something he could use.

Starscream loaded the stick into his data port, an electric thrill crawling through him. He was spying on Megatron. Creeping his way into the former gladiator's private files. Hopefully there would be something useful in them, something that could give him a tactical advantage.

Whatever he found, he was deleting the recording of their fight in Megatron's office for sure.

The files names appeared on his HUD. _Might as well get this over with._ With dry, itching tubing, he selected the folder titled 'Meetings'. Their fight would naturally be the most recent date. Riveted, he opened the file and let it play.

It started out as he recalled, only he looked even more fabulous than he'd remembered. And Megatron had been even more unreasonable. _Why didn't he just hear me out? He was determined to say no before I finished._ By the time the recording reached the point where Megatron had him pinned to the wall, Starscream was cringing into his throne. _Holy lugnuts, was my reaction really that obvious?_ _And Megatron didn’t notice. The pompous aft._

When he got to the part where his spike popped out, Starscream flinched from the crushing mortification. Regardless, he had to stop the recording and admire himself. Damn, his spike looked _good._ Really good. No wonder Megatron had been shocked into inaction.

_And he was, wasn't he? He wasn't offended or angry. He was shocked, and he was going to say something. What was it?_

"I should've flashed my valve at him,” murmured Starscream. “He would've been so dazzled, the Decepticons would’ve been mine right there."

He forced a peal of screeching laughter, and then he deleted the file. Maybe it was for the best that they hadn't gotten into Soundwave's systems yet. If a copy existed, it was in there. As far as Starscream was concerned, it could languish in Soundwave's locked digital vaults forever.

Curious and desperate to rid himself of thoughts of the encounter, Starscream quickly flicked through the other files. Most of them were meetings with Soundwave. _Boring. Boring. Ugggh so boring. His voice is so irritating. How can Megatron stand it?_ He didn't have the patience to watch them to completion, so he abandoned the Meetings folder and concentrated on one titled 'Plans'.

Hopes of learning a tactical advantage fizzled almost immediately. Most of them were too stupid to comprehend. Starscream buried his face in his hands as he scanned them. "Optimus Prime body double? Dumb. Discover Autobot MTO method? That never worked did it, Mighty Mega-idiot. Make the Ardurian sun explode? Yeah, that's achievable. Power plant takeover...power plant takeover...how many of these are there!?!?"

Starscream skimmed through no more than forty files of patently ridiculous plans to take over power plants on various planets. "Stupid. Stupid. What's this? 'Giant Purple Griffin?' What the hell is a griffin?" He read on, learning more than he ever wanted to know about the existence of griffins. "Congratulations, Megatron. This is literally the dumbest plan you've ever had. And that's saying something."

Overall, the files were nothing but boring meetings and ludicrous plans. He was just about to blessedly delete the entire data stick, when he saw the last folder. It was marked, simply, 'Starscream'.

Starscream swallowed hard. His spark tightened in his chest. This was sure to be insulting. It was sure to be infuriating. He didn't want to open the folder, but he _really_ wanted to open the folder. With a deep sense of dread, he opened all the files at once.

The bulk of them were, much to his surprise, innocuous enough. Mainly pictures of him doing something awesome, such as launching into the sky or yelling at the troops. In all of them, his frame shone. His optics flashed the deadly terror for which he was known. They were lovely, but not really anything special. _That sneaky slagger. This probably has something to do with cataloguing your style. Nice try, Megatron. You see how well-_

His train of thought derailed when he got to the last file. It wasn't a picture, but a short video. Starscream recognized it instantly. The first time they met, back when he'd admired Megatron more than anything else. Back when the mech was power incarnate, a battered and promising gladiator reclining in a makeshift medibay. With Starscream eager and awestruck on his knees.

"...Megatron! I pledge my allegiance undying!"

The video was tagged with a poem. It read:

 

_Your flight, infused with grace and sheer brutality,_

_On noble wings, my symbol placed so neat,_

_My spark, in tandem, soars and stops mid-beat,_

_To watch you slip the surly bonds of gravity._

_Your beauty and your charm, a great disguise,_

_That hides ambition, treason, inner fire,_

_The ideal Decepticon, I must admire,_

_You fall a thousand times and still you rise._

_To know your anger, taste your resentful squeal,_

_The rapid shifts in shape and mood I treasure,_

_Your poisonous submission, my greatest pleasure,_

_To see you crushed, unbroken, beneath my heel._

 

The timestamp on the poem was old. Not long after the war began, during those brief and dangerous years where their fights were more passionate than bitter. When Starscream wrestled with feverish fantasies that he pretended were the result of malfunctioning code.

Starscream's fingers twitched on the armrests of the throne, his core temperature shooting into the red. His faceplates heated and his wings jerked back stiffly. He leaned forward, unable to stop staring at the information plastered in front of his vision. "What...what is this?"

His thrusters whined, the near panic practically throwing his programming into an emergency shutdown. Megatron wrote poetry about him? Poetry that was full of admiration and violence and...called him beautiful? _Why?_ Why would Megatron do such a thing?

_Why would he protect you from Tarn? Protect you from Overlord? Reinstate you over and over and over again? Why didn't he attack you when you lost control in his office? Mock you when he had the upper hand? You gave him the ultimate advantage, both physically and emotionally._

And Megatron, for once, had declined to take it.

_Why?_

A desperate little wail fell from Starscream's mouth. He stared at the poem, trying to find some hidden hateful meaning. He ran a hand down his cockpit, touched his dry lips. His insides clicked and whirred and fluttered so hard he could practically taste his spark beat. "But...why would he..."

His own processor supplied the answer. Like a hidden virus in his programming, one he'd ignored forever, but always knew was there. Lurking. Teasing him. Transmuting from knowledge to lust to hatred to...something else. And back again. 

_You know why. On some level, he desires you. And you...you STILL…_

"No," Starscream whispered out loud.

Of course it was true. It was the most natural, obvious thing in the universe. Hadn't there always been something between them? A tense attraction, vicious and smoldering? Something so powerful, it could barely be contained in two mechs. Tearing through time and space, razing ego and power structure and trust in its path. Two unstoppable forces. Two immovable objects.

But then, so what? What did it all amount to? It was too late. The years, and Megatron's ridiculous ego, had destroyed anything that could have been. Both of them couldn't lead, and Emperor Starscream was in power now. A power that he had rightfully earned, that he was never going to give up. And Megatron was dead. Wasn't he?

A deep voice suddenly resounded behind him. "Starscream?"

Starscream jumped, fuel pump churning. "Agh!" He turned around to see Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Black Shadow standing near his throne. He'd been so absorbed in his thoughts, he must not have heard them come in. "What!?!? What is it?"

Thundercracker looked more unhappy than usual. He crossed his arms over his cockpit, and his cold optics could barely meet Starscream's. "You said to leave you alone for a few hours, but then you wanted to have a jet meeting?"

"I did?" Starscream hastily deleted all the files on the data stick, except one. He quickly copied the video and poem to his own private storage, yanked the stick out of his data port, and crushed it in his hand. He ground the pieces together, until they were so much dust falling from his fingertips.

He examined the three jets, his closest allies. As much as he didn't like it, Starscream faced the fact that he needed them now more than ever. He needed Thundercracker's support and gravity with the troops, Skywarp's popularity and warping ability. But above all, he needed Black Shadow's sheer power. Given how miserable they looked, he could be in danger of losing those allies, and then were would he be?

"I did! A jet meeting. Ahem, yes. Let's have that meeting now." He plastered on a phony expression, one that oozed compatriotism. Anxiety boiled the fuel in his lines, but he continued smoothly. The three jets needed something they each never knew they wanted. "I called you here for a very important reason. It's critical."

Three sets of wings perked up. They fixed their eyes on him, listening intently.

Starscream gestured to his throne. "The gilding on this chair, what's a better color? Regency crimson, or dominion magenta?"

Every proud Seeker ever built, no matter what their mood, had an opinion on all things beautiful. His Trinemates were no different.

"Regency crimson," said Skywarp without hesitation. 

"Dominion magenta," said Thundercracker. "That's what you called us here for? Opinions on your chair?"

"Actually, it was a test," said Starscream with his most devilish, playful smile. "To see which one of you has the worst taste." He vaulted from the throne and pointed to Thundercracker. "It's you, by the way." Grabbing Skywarp by the arm, he pulled him forward. "Here. Sit in it. Tell me if it's comfortable."

Skywarp’s resistance didn’t last long. “Okay.” He relaxed into the chair. "Yeah. It totally is."

Starscream danced his fingers in circles down Skywarp's wing. He looked at Thundercracker. This was what they really needed. Some light and typical teasing followed by heavy camaraderie. When it came down to it, in the giving someone something they never knew they wanted department, brotherhood was one of the most potent weapons in a Seeker Trine. He jumped halfway into Skywarp's lap. "Move over."

Skywarp swatted at him, but squeezed nearer to the armrest to make more room.

Starscream motioned to Thundercracker and patted his own lap. He sent a familiar pulse through their bond. _::I lead, you follow.::_ The most effective part of this strategy was that he only needed one of them to follow. It had always been that way. If he could convince one of them of something, the other would naturally fall in line. They were a package deal. When he got Skywarp, he automatically got Thundercracker too.

"Come on, TC.” Skywarp wiggled in the seat and hooked a heel around Starscream's. "It's comfy."

Thundercracker waffled for a bit, but soon his deep frown wavered. He stepped forward to join them, and the three of them jostled to find a comfortable position on the throne.

"Seekers." Black Shadow scoffed and shook his head. "But I gotta say, you three are cute together."

So far, Black Shadow had not been worth the money. But Starscream knew he'd need him too, and he'd need to assuage Black Shadow's fragile pride. It killed him to do it, but he motioned towards the side of the throne. "I have something for you. Take it."

Black Shadow eyed Megatron's fusion cannon. "Really?"

"Yes," said Starscream. "But for the love of Unicron, be careful where you fire it. Take it. You deserve it.” That was a lie, but it came easily. And it set up the perfect opportunity to address Black Shadow's no doubt biggest source of frustration. "You did well against Tarn. If we'd been able to shut down his cheap trick, you would’ve surely beaten him."

"Yeah," grumbled Black Shadow. He hoisted the cannon like it was made of plastic. "So, this attaches to what?"

Starscream half expected Black Shadow to try to put the cannon in his mouth. "It ties into your main power source through the wiring in your arm. Then you synch it with your weapons system. Here. I'll help."

As he attached the cannon to Black Shadow's arm, the larger jet said, "I heard you defeated Overlord and then surfed Tarn through space. Nice."

“I did!” said Starscream. “It was epic. You should've seen Overlord. He was so afraid. I thought he was gonna cry."

"I believe it," said Black Shadow. He admired the weapon attached to his arm, EM field surging with power. "Speaking of Overlord, I have something for you too." His optics shuttered, and he sent a ping to Starscream over inter-Decepticon radio. The title was one word. 'Nine'.

"Really!?!?" Starscream squeaked with excitement, then quickly arranged his features into as bored an expression as he could manage. "I mean, really? Huh."

"Yeah," said Black Shadow. "I think _you've_ earned _that_."

"What is it?" asked Thundercracker.

Black Shadow pointed the fusion cannon at an invisible enemy. "Only one of Megatron's most infamous arena fights. Number nine."

"Whaaat?" Skywarp slung his legs over Starscream and Thundercracker's, giving them more room to sink into the throne together. "That one doesn't exist. We should know. Screamer's been trying to get it forever."

"It does." Black Shadow grabbed a chair from the communications console and dragged it over. He pointed to the ship's main view screen. "Throw it up. Let's watch it."

Without Soundwave's codes, Starscream couldn't send it directly through comms. But he did have the ability to make the monitor an extension of his own audio/visual output. 

"Wait’ll you see Megatron kick the slag out of Overlord," said Black Shadow. "You guys are gonna love this."

Thundercracker fixed his optics on the screen, but he sent a private message to Starscream over their Trine channel. ::I'm not so sure about all this, Starscream.::

::I know,:: responded Starscream. He flicked his gaze towards Black Shadow. ::That chair wasn't built to hold a bot as powerful and heavy as him. If it collapses under him, try not to laugh.:: 

::No, I mean, what about Megatron? Or Overlord. They're still out there.::

Starscream queued up the video, nonchalance programmed all over his face. ::Black Shadow can take care of Overlord. And we can defeat Megatron. Besides, they're way behind us. They're probably injured. Or dead.::

Thundercracker shook his head. ::Do you really believe that?::

Starscream set the video file to play. His thoughts wandered to Megatron holding him against a wall, a giant silver thigh between his legs.

No. No, he didn't believe that. But at this point, there was nothing to do but move forward.


	9. Chapter 9

Overlord was an excellent propulsion system. Strong and tireless, his spaceworthy alt was more powerful than the little shuttle’s normal engines. Soon they’d reach the Runeto asteroid field, hours before the initial projection.

If only he'd stop that infernal whistling.

Inside the shuttle, Megatron was in danger of ripping the armrests off his chair. The pressure from his clenched jaw diffused in front of him with the scent of the perpetually irritated. If sound couldn't travel effectively in a vacuum, it meant that Overlord was whistling digitally. Something he was doing for the simple pleasure of being annoying. It was working, judging by Megatron's increasingly tangible vexation.

Soundwave shut off Overlord's audio feed, and blessed colorless silence reigned once again.

Megatron uttered a grunt of acknowledgement. The closest he ever got to a thank you. He didn't realize it, but Overlord's petty needling had freed him from contemplating Starscream's many betrayals. The thoughts immediately reignited, cold and brutal cravings for revenge interlaced with warm and restless desires. 

Such impulses were becoming bolder in Megatron's mind, to the point that soon he would be unable to ignore them. Soundwave stared at his control panel and frowned. He was Megatron's most trusted advisor. Should he be dispensing advice now? If so, what should he say?

_My Lord, perhaps if you fragged Starscream, this army would operate more efficiently._ Or: _Megatron, Starscream feels the same. An intimate allegiance could be beneficial to you both._

Or what he really wanted to say: _Lord Megatron: too good for Starscream._

The last one, he insisted to himself, was purely pragmatic.

A sharp beep from the console interrupted his thoughts. A shape was heading in their direction. One so large, it took a few seconds for the entire thing to appear on the sensors.

Soundwave's spark leapt behind his cassette deck. He diverted all visual feeds to the main view screen. "The organic ship is approaching."

An enormous freighter appeared, its shape reminiscent of a timeworn silver bullet. The body was a long, single tube that tapered to a blunt point at the front. Etched on the bow were curly purple symbols that connected to bold straight lines, each slashing down a side of the ship. One side filled the shuttle's screen as it passed by, a massive moving wall of gray and purple that kept going. And going.

And going.

"Silver and purple," murmured Megatron. "They're flying my colors."

_Those symbols_. Soundwave accessed his linguistic database. Designs in such a prominent position must be language. He ran them through every pattern recognition system in his programming, and soon his translation matrix pinged him with a match.

_Periscian Docid._

He failed to school the surprise on his exposed features. "We have encountered this species before."

"Are you sure?" Megatron considered the ship with an increased scrutiny. "I would have remembered a vessel such as this."

Accessing his personal files and mission logs, Soundwave formulated a report. "You do not remember because they did not possess this technology when we first visited their planet seven hundred years ago. At that time, they were simple, primitive creatures whose bodies consisted of colonies of sentient bacteria. Incapable of space flight and lacking useful technology, we searched their planet for resources and left without much notice of them."

Megatron shook his head. "Impossible. They went from barely conscious to-" He gestured to the ship that was still passing them. "- _this_ in a mere seven hundred years? Achievement of space flight in a shutter of an optic?"

Soundwave shrugged. "A shutter of an optic for us, many generations for them. The name on the bow says _Periscian Docid._ Translation: _Biological Imperative._ "

" _Biological Imperative_ ,” scoffed Megatron. "Do they see us?"

"Unknown," said Soundwave. "I am not sensing any communication signals. Our shuttle is a speck in space compared to them. They may think we are a piece of debris not worth inspecting."

Megatron tapped the audio feed to their makeshift engine. "Overlord."

"-see this? It's still going," said Overlord, clearly unaware that no one had been listening for the last few minutes.

"Maneuver us closer," said Megatron. “And attach us to their hull."

Overlord pushed them towards the larger ship. Once in range, he slipped back into the shuttle’s airlock and began docking procedures. A short connective sleeve extended and attached to the _Biological Imperative’s_ hull, securing the two vessels together with forceful magnetic seals.

Soundwave checked his instruments again. "They are not reacting." He rose from his chair and palmed the controls to pressurize the airlock.

The inner hatch opened, and the walking tower of craggy blue brutality that was Overlord traipsed inside. He powered up his weapons and pointed through the tunnel to the hull of the other ship. "Want me to do the honors?"

"No!" said Soundwave. "Firing will destroy the passage and expose us to space." He ran a brief diagnostic on his own shoulder cannon. Self-repair was still working on his offensive firing capabilities, although he did have acoustic and vibration functions. With great care, he aimed his cannon at the _Biological Imperative’s_ scarred hull and, matching the frequency of their shielding, fired a narrow beam.

Megatron and Overlord smelled confused, although Megatron's scent was tempered with trusting colors.

Soundwave made a small circle. "Sonic laser. I have created a hole in their shielding and weakened the metal behind it. Now we need a way to cut through."

Megatron balled his hand into a fist, pulled it back, and punched straight into the hull. It left a hole the size of his arm, which he then tore into an opening large enough to walk through.

"That is also effective," said Soundwave.

Overlord made to move, but Megatron blocked his path. "I'll take point."

"Age before beauty?" asked Overlord, his thoughts a mournful lament about his lack of endoscopic claws.

"Leaders first," grunted Megatron. “You take the rear.”

Soundwave fell in line behind Megatron, programmed all his senses to their highest receptiveness, and stepped through the hole into the organic ship.

The first thing he noticed was the grime.

It was everywhere, a thin film of viscous muck covering the walls and every surface. Visible dust motes spun lazily and settled on his plating. He brushed them off and raised a leg, noting with distaste the stickiness of the floor.

Megatron observed their surroundings. “I assume this is a torture chamber.”

Soundwave cleared the condensation beading on the cold glass of his optics. They were in a cramped, rectangular room, most of which consisted of filthy counters and shelving. Unfamiliar implements lay strewn all around them. Funny shaped appliances with mixing paddles. Long trays stacked together. Closed metal boxes that emanated heat. On every shelf were hundreds of little concave containers. Like the energon cubes Ravage used to scavenge for the rest of them, back when they would have cruddy morning fuel together as a group.

The memory brought a fresh wave of dull longing. “Ah,” said Soundwave. “This is a kitchen.”

“Organic food?” groaned Overlord. “So yes, a torture chamber. But not the fun kind.”

The smell _was_ torturous. It hung heavy and thick, a pungent weight that was practically a life form unto itself. Organics always smelled equally bad whether alive or dead.

The only smell more powerful was that of Megatron's revulsion. "Don't touch anything."

Although he hadn't been thinking of doing it, the instruction prompted Overlord to swipe a finger across a greasy surface. "How did these things ever invent space travel?"

"Why does anyone venture into space?" said Megatron. "Necessity. Be it survival or conquest." Shoving past Overlord, he walked down the narrow kitchen.

His strides created explosive detonations that vibrated against Soundwave’s face. There was another feeling too, a whisper-thin tendril that settled in his chest cavity. It seemed to move, from his cassette deck to his head and back. Every time he tried to examine it, it wasn't there. Yet it was pervasive, resembling his base programming. Both digital and ephemeral. Flickering in and out of existence too rapidly to categorize.

He tried to focus and follow Megatron, when a message appeared on his HUD.

**Connection reinitializing.**

_What connection?_ In his many years of functioning, Soundwave had never seen that message before. Apprehension poured through his fuel lines. This was all wrong. There was no real life here, no reassuring streams of information. Only goop and dust and the general unease that came with a lack of schematics.

"Megatron," he whispered, "if we can find a digital access port, I can tap into their network and learn the ship's layout."

“Noted,” said Megatron. He pointed to Soundwave's shoulder cannon. "Are your weapons systems functioning?" When Soundwave shook his head, he addressed Overlord. "Do you have any weapons that aren't attached? He should be armed in case we're separated."

"Of course." Overlord reached into his subspace and pulled out a blaster that was an exact replica of Megatron's alt mode. He handed it towards Soundwave. "Here, Commander."

Megatron opened his mouth and snapped it shut silently, but a sound echoed from his mind. _Euhhn._ Finally, he gave up and headed towards the corner, where the path veered somewhere else. “Let’s go see who they’re serving.”

Soundwave took the gun and followed Megatron, forcing himself to ignore the hollow sensation in his chest. Like his insides were pouring out his cassette deck.

They turned the corner to find a line of ovens, and then the kitchen opened to face the largest mess hall he’d ever seen. Row after row of long blue tables filled the room. Hundreds of chairs were stacked neatly against the walls. A heavy buzz filled the air, the bustle of clattering dishes and mealtime maelstrom. It was not dissimilar from a Decepticon cafeteria, save for the life forms occupying the tables.

Soundwave reset his visual filters.

Yes, he was looking at real creatures and not smudges across his vision. They were about as tall as his shoulder, a pale yellow-green with shimmering plasma membranes for skin. Their frames seemed roughly bipedal in shape, each with two legs, multiple arms, and a torso that stopped at the neck. As they turned, their amorphous bodies shuddered slightly, as though someone had scooped up careless hunks of organic material and slapped them on the floor.

And yet, slight echoes of muddled consciousness rose from them, as if they were thinking inside a ball of glutinous jelly. Soundwave had experienced this before. Organic beings always created sensory reactions that were soft and dampened. He’d assumed this was due to the electrical impulses of their thoughts being so much weaker than a Cybertronian's. It made sense that a lesser life form would display less power in communications.

Blubbering gibberish erupted, one whose pigments registered as lackluster blips.

Overlord’s delight splashed all over the large mess hall. " _That!?!_ Those organics built all this?"

Two of the aliens cautiously approached him, their steps demonstrating a strange, slithering quality. They pointed and squirted noises that sounded like _glub glub glub_.

“Look at you, you little freaky creatures,” said Overlord. Saw-toothed thoughts of violence lacerated through his mind. They maimed the space around him, interspersed with a curiosity that was indigo and ice cold.

“Wait-“ said Soundwave.

Overlord brought one giant leg down on the alien with a _scrutch_ , his smile widening as the thing burst under his foot. The other alien gurgled and backed away, but he quickly grabbed it. "Look, Megatron." He lifted it and clapped his hands together. "They pop!"

The creature exploded, sending wet organic material spattering all over Megatron.

"Oh," said Overlord. His amusement yawned open before Soundwave, a deep pit of swirling black and white. "Sorry about that." He attempted to wipe the slime from Megatron's helm, but only succeeded in spreading it around more. He was spared their Leader’s increasing wrath when every blobby being in the cafeteria oozed to their feet at once.

The room suddenly blinked red, and a loud klaxon starting blaring.

Looking towards the source of the noise, Soundwave saw a black globe wedged into a corner of the ceiling. “Conjecture: a recording device. This entire ship is now alert to our presence.”

Megatron wiped at his face and glared at Overlord. "Finally."

From the other end of the mess hall, more beings swarmed in. Many carried metallic objects that looked like weapons. The emotion they secreted was subdued, but still crystalline enough to understand.

Anger.

Overlord rubbed his hands together. "They have guns. That's adorable."

As the creatures continued to talk, Soundwave's vocal matrix began to adapt. Squishy shouts became syllables. Garbled sounds became words. Grammatical and semantic relationships arose, the voices acquiring both pattern and meaning.

More weapons appeared. An alien advanced closer and pointed its blaster at Megatron. "Stand down and prepare to be arrested.”

"It is telling us to surrender," said Soundwave.

"Decepticons don't surrender," boomed Megatron.

The thing fired. An arrow of light flashed out of the gun and struck Overlord. And Overlord, the petrifying Decepticon who struck indescribable terror into the sparks of millions, took a miniscule step backwards.

Soundwave's jaw dropped. Megatron's optic ridges shot upwards. A tornado of shock twisted between the two of them.

Overlord recovered in a second, alight with an embarrassment that Soundwave had never witnessed from him. "That _hurt._ " He brushed at his plating. It was barely singed, though the damage to his ego shone brightly. _"_ That actually hurt."

Megatron eyed the never-ending swarm of furious, armed aliens. “Decepticons don’t surrender,” he repeated. With a speed the organics clearly did not think him capable of, he grabbed the nearest one and ripped it in half, spraying ooze and gunk everywhere. He caught the gun before it hit the ground and fired at the wall of enemies in front of them. "They do, on occasion, retreat!"

The creatures before them scattered. Those that didn’t burst into a slimy mess. They threw over the tables and dove behind them, shouting orders to each other and regrouping quickly.

Soundwave dodged an oncoming shot. "Megatron, information is our most powerful resource. We _must_ find a console. I am confident I can tap in."

"This way." Megatron steered them out an exit and into a grubby hallway. With a few seconds lead time, they broke into a run.

Blasts rang out behind them, along with more shouts and the sounds of wet feet slapping on metal flooring. Most of the shots bounced against the wall, although plenty of them hit Overlord. The overhead lights flew past as they ran, but one managed to illuminate words stenciled between a door and a huge pipe.

Soundwave stopped. "Here. This says _Accounting._ "

Megatron balled a fist to punch through the door, but it opened automatically as soon as his clenched hand connected. Momentum sent him stumbling into the room. He recovered quickly, his mind at once reasserting its veneer of threatening dignity.

Soundwave smothered a grin. The boundless ability to return to greatness was one of his favorite things about Lord Megatron. He eased his way past Overlord to follow.

The room was empty, save for haphazardly placed boxes and ancient electronics. The same layer of sludge and grime covered the surfaces. On the opposite wall, there was another mech-sized pipe running from the floor to the ceiling.

Overlord pointed to it. “These tubes are everywhere. Think they hold fuel? I’m hungry.”

“Negative,” answered Soundwave. “Hypothesis: ventilation shafts. Necessary with this many organics.”

“You should’ve refueled back on the shuttle. Now guard the entrance,” snapped Megatron. He then looked at the circular array of blinking switches on the waist-high instrument panel before them. “Can you operate these?”

"Yes," said Soundwave. The arrangement of the technology was foreign, but information architecture was information architecture. He pried the control panel cover off, exposing a twisted collection of wires and cables. A piece of metal on his wrist pulled back. Working quickly, he spliced the alien wires and connected them to his own communication cables.

Immediately he had access to the organics' mainframe. Pure, divine information on which to focus. The files appeared before him, a formless cloud of data similar to the beings that created it. He could see their communications with each other, read the results from their poor air filtration system, and load a schematic of their layout. Most importantly, he could see their mission logs.

Dread settled into Soundwave’s tanks. He sputtered, his fingers skirting to his aching cassette deck. "This ship," he murmured.

Megatron's furious curiosity was all-encompassing. "It's a warship, isn't it? They've come to attack us."

"No," said Soundwave. He rushed through the information faster and faster, until his free processing power was ground down to almost nothing. "It's a science and transportation vessel. The _Biological Imperative_ is a monument to inorganic study, particularly Cybertronians. They have prisoners. Possibly Decepticon in origin." He shook his head. It was difficult to decipher the alien taxonomical code, lacking as he was in their scientific vocabulary. Still, one thing was certain. "Starscream was...Starscream was rig-"

Megatron's emotions wafted a scent of true horror. "Don't say it," he groaned.

It _was_ hard to say, but Soundwave continued anyway. "Starscream was right. They are researching us.”

“Starscream mentioned a weapon named Totality,” said Megatron urgently. "What is it?" 

Soundwave parsed through months of backlogged communications, until he discovered an analogous translation. “Unknown. It is mentioned by codename only. However, their mission log states one main purpose: to deliver this…Totality to its intended party.” He continued reading, absorbing the organics’ secrets. Buried in a string of deep space communications was a single message with a familiar sigil. "The Autobots are involved."

Blaster fire became louder as aliens took cover around the corner. One that managed to break past Overlord met an unfortunate end with Megatron's fist. " _They're_ the buyers?" he asked.

"I do not believe so," said Soundwave. He circumnavigated the security on the external scanners. "But they desired a meeting in regards to the mission. I believe this meeting is taking place right now. On this ship."

"Prime is here," said Megatron, the mountain of his rage growing higher.

“Yes.” Soundwave broke into the scanning systems, gaining a view from the _Biological Imperative_ 's visual feed. There were two other vessels outside, both designs instantly recognizable. "The Autobot’s ship is here too, as well as the _True Believer_."

Megatron's mind narrowed to a fixed point. _Starscream._ "Can you contact them? Can you project me to them on screen?"

The strange, familiar feeling chunked in Soundwave's chest again, like a missing limb seeking to reattach. Digital déjà vu. He struggled to push it aside. "The security camera in the cafeteria. If you stood within sight of it, I could project you. But, Lord Megatron, there are too many enemies out there and-"

His warning went unheeded. Megatron gave him a terse nod and left his side to join Overlord. "Stay here." He motioned to Soundwave. "Guard him."

And then he was gone, rushing into the firefight and presumably back to the cafeteria. A cacophony of shrieks and blaster fire trailed behind him, the bedlam growing dimmer as he drew the aliens away.

Soundwave hijacked the communications feed and pinged the Decepticon ship. As he seized control, the message in his personal status queue changed.

**Connection established.**

A rush of sensation bowled him over. Hope. Pain. The inexplicable impression of a missing piece now recovered. He spat static and gripped the console, his joints buckling. All this time. All his thorough searching. To know completeness once more. Here. Now.

His hands trembled. One arm reached out.

"What?" called Overlord from the doorway. "What is it?"

Soundwave knew. In some subconscious way, he'd known the moment he stepped on board.

"Ravage," he gasped. "It's Ravage!"

 

~~~~~~

 

It was one thing to know that the organic ship was one hundred miles long. It was another to see it on screen.

"What are they waiting for?" groused Black Shadow. He paced the length of the bridge, the fusion cannon on his arm emitting a faint hum. "What are _we_ waiting for?"

Starscream ran the fabric of his new cloak through his fingers. As they’d waited at Runeto behind a large, dawdling asteroid, he’d set Shockwave on a project of critical importance: fashion a cape that was resplendent yet understated. Comfortable yet functional. Kingly without being too pretentious.

It was a simple enough task, really. Although that hadn’t stopped Shockwave from whining about limited resources and the strain on all his mysterious free time. But he’d obeyed and created a sublime purple cloak that draped perfectly, latching around the neck with a tasteful gold chain.

Starscream caressed the cape, pondering. The organics had arrived, yet before he could give any orders the immense freighter had just…stopped. It was still sitting there, unmoving in space. Rising from his seat, he descended to Soundwave's comm station, currently occupied by Shockwave. "Are you sure they don't notice us?"

"No," said Shockwave. "If they detected us, they would have taken a measure of action by now."

_A measure of action. Like hailing us or firing a weapon or, at the very least, running away._ Starscream tossed the cape over his shoulder. Around him, the bridge quivered with the eager EM fields of over two-dozen powerful Decepticons. They craved a fight, but something in his code told him to wait out the delay. They'd come this far, driven by his own cleverness and possibly a tiny bit of luck. Now it was best to understand all the variables before enacting whatever brilliant scheme would lead them to victory.

He wasn't quite certain what that brilliant scheme would be, but it would come to him any second now.

“Perhaps this is why they are waiting,” said Shockwave. “Direct your attention to the main monitor. Another ship is approaching."

Slowly, another object appeared. It was much smaller, with a flattened disc-like shape and no discernable wings. Similar to an Ark in design. Skirting the edge of the asteroid field, it stopped in front of the nose of the organic ship and held position.

An Autobot warship.

Starscream's engine stuttered. He gripped Shockwave's shoulder. "Is that-"

"The _Abiding Liberty_ ," finished Shockwave. "Optimus Prime's current flagship."

"So he _is_ involved." Starscream bounced on his thrusters. This was _it._ All the players in position. Everything he needed to push the ultimate Decepticon triumph. And with an ununtrium-covered superwarrior on their side, Team Starscream had a definite advantage. "Scan both of them."

"I am reading nothing useful,” said Shockwave. “But I am unable to operate more than the basic functions of this terminal."

An astringent taste flooded the back of Starscream's throat. "You _still_ haven't broken into Soundwave's systems?"

"I have not had time." Shockwave swiveled in his chair and laid his single optic on Starscream's cape. "As I was placed on other tasks."

"Excuses," muttered Starscream.

"And now the organics are contacting us," said Shockwave, his attention back on his instrument panel. "Perhaps the Autobots have alerted them to our location."

Starscream huffed. So much for the element of surprise. "Can you put it on screen? Can you do that at least?"

The display in front of them blipped, and the image of the two ships was replaced with an image of Optimus Prime.

A murmur of surprise and disgust rumbled through the Decepticons. Some scoffed, others outright jeered. While their army may have, at times, been divided on the subject of Megatron, everyone hated Prime.

Starscream's hands balled into fists. What he wouldn't give to smack the fake serenity from Prime's smug face. _This is good,_ he thought. _This is an event we can all rally behind. But hold on...why is he..._ "What is this? I thought you said it was the organic ship calling."

"It is," said Shockwave. "Optimus Prime must be on board."

A message from Thundercracker appeared over their Trine channel. ::Starscream, if Prime's with the organics, then the Autobots must be here to pick him up!::

::Holy Pit,:: responded Skywarp. ::Is this a conspiracy? Is that what this is?! Hey more importantly, are we gonna fight soon?::

Prime somehow managed to look grave with no real facial expression. "Starscream," he began politely. "I would speak with Megatron."

"You would speak with the leader of the Decepticons." Starscream strode to the center of the room and jutted his chin into the air, letting his majestic nature speak for itself. "And that's _me._ " 

"I see," said Prime. "Then I will address you as leader."

"Damn right you will,” snapped Starscream. "What are you doing over there, _Optimus?_ " 

"We are meeting with our organic allies,” said Prime. “We had hoped that the Runeto asteroid field would be a safe place for me to rejoin my ship undetected, although I see now that is not the case." 

"Oh. Well. Yeah. That was a dumb plan." Starscream scrambled to recover his verbal footing. He'd forgotten how easy it was to be thrown by talking with the Autobot leader. Optimus spoke in that direct manner of Autobot "honesty”, a lack of guile surreptitiously designed to manipulate and mollify. "Allies, huh? You're colluding with organics who have Cybertronian prisoners? This is a new low, even for you."

"Starscream," said Prime calmly. "This situation is more complicated than you realize. Perhaps we can come to a solution."

Starscream cackled. "Here's a solution: surrender to us. Surrender to _me_. Give me Totality, and we can end this war right here, right now."

There was a disappointed "awwwww" from the jacked-up troops at the prospect of no combat. Vortex punched a fist into his hand and rubbed it. Blast Off powered up his gun until it purred. A bot who sounded suspiciously like Skywarp hollered, "Booooo."

Starscream ignored them. It was worth a try. Power acquired by peaceful means was still power acquired. If he could get Prime to voluntarily kneel in front of him, he'd broadcast that image to Megatron's private comm frequency every single day, whether the old slagger was alive or not. And Soundwave's. And Tarn's. Hell, and Overlord's too.

Prime sighed. "You know we won't do that, although I do support a peaceful resolution. Here are my terms: you surrender to us. Let's end this war, and we'll discuss the future of our race."

"You mean the future of my people under an Autobot heel?" crowed Starscream. "We're willing to resolve this peacefully, but not as your slaves. Either you surrender to us, or get ready for the fight of your life."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" The plating around Prime's optics rearranged slightly, indicating he was smiling beneath the mask. "My Autobots are telling me that your ship is already damaged and your weapons bays are empty."

"You know nothing,” said Starscream with a bored wave of his hand. “We have an army of the most brave and powerful mechs ever constructed. We have Bruticus and Devastator on board. We have Black Shadow!"

"Yo." Black Shadow drifted next to Starscream, kissed the fusion cannon, and pointed it like a finger. "I'm itchin' for a dance, Optimus."

"Starscream," interrupted Shockwave quietly. "We are receiving another call from the organic vessel. Someone is hijacking this frequency."

_So the organics wanna talk too? Good. They'll leak their coolant when they see us. Or whatever they have inside of them._ "Let them see," shouted Starscream. "Let them tremble before the power of the Starscream Insurgency!"

The screen split. One half showed Optimus, and the other was a blur of fuzzy static that slowly coalesced into another figure. A dark chuckle accompanied the image, low and dangerous and terrifyingly familiar.

Every Decepticon in the room gasped. A reactionary wave spread through them. It began as a hum of whispers, and soon crescendoed into an awed murmur. Confident and eager smiles withered and died. Knee joints knocked together. EM fields pulsed with confusing mixtures of relief and dread.

Black Shadow made a little squeak and shrank in his armor. He drooped and shuffled, trying to hide his own colossal frame behind Starscream's wings.

On everyone's lips was one name: "Megatron..."

Megatron's stupid face snapped into view. He sported the line of charred metal that Starscream had inflicted on him earlier, only now he was also covered in streaks of yellow slime. "Insurgency," he said, the word spilling from a deadly smile. "An insurgent is one who revolts against civil authority. My power is far more absolute, far less dubious. Which makes you, Starscream, a mere malcontent."

The flooring seemed to crack open and swallow Starscream whole. His legs grew weak in the joints, gears rattling. For a second, half his diodes failed to conduct current. "Megatron," he growled, his voice distant over the hammering of his own spark. "I see you're still alive. How droll."

Megatron's hand shot out of view. When he pulled it back, he was holding a wriggling, bipedal jelly creature. He then tore it in half, heedless of the goo splattering his chest and the laser blasts bouncing off his helm. "And I see you're...wearing fabric?"

"It's called being stately,” hissed Starscream. "A far better look than your cloak of has-been disgrace." It was a metaphorical cloak, of course. He resisted the urge to clarify that. Hopefully the idiots under his command understood.

"Megatron," said Prime. "I assume you're responsible for the current attack on this ship?"

"Silence, Prime!" bellowed Megatron. He crushed another organic without breaking eye contact. "Face me, Starscream. Or do you lack the fortitude to finish what you've started?"

Prime held up his hands and soothed the air in front of him. "If we could get back on track-"

"Shut up, Optimus!" Starscream made a slashing gesture down his wing to Shockwave. "You've simply delayed the inevitable, Megatron. This is the last gasp of your stale dynasty."

"It is your reign that's soon to end." Megatron stepped forward, until his face almost filled his side of the screen. "And I look forward to hearing the unique, desperate little whimper you'll utter when you understand just how badly you've been beaten."

Starscream swallowed, his wings flitting. Megatron's poetry floated back to him. _My spark, in tandem, soars and stops mid-beat._ "We'll...we'll see about that!"

"So we shall," said Megatron. "As I intend to reach this Totality first. Now, my Decepticons, look at you. Look what you've become! It's time to rise up and-"

_No! Don't let him pontificate to them._ Starscream rushed to Shockwave's console and cut the call. "This," he said, slashing down his wing again, "means end the transmission, dammit!"

"You had not specified that you would be giving commands with Seeker-specific body language," said Shockwave.

"Rrgh!" Starscream struggled to keep his composure. The troops, eager for a fight moments ago, now looked uneasy. Megatron had a head start on Totality. There was an Autobot warship in the way. This could go real bad, real fast. He had to take action. He had to _do_ something before it all fell apart. "Okay. Fire the-"

"Missiles we don't have?" finished Thundercracker.

Starscream cringed. Right. He'd already fired them. "Then fire the laser cannons."

"Damaged during the missile explosions," said Thundercracker. "They're offline."

Starscream threw up his hands. "Fine! Shockwave, don't you have a top-secret weapon we could test? A bomb or photon torpedoes or something?"

"Negative. The wave-particle duality of photons makes them too unpredictable to deliver via torpedo. Such a thing is a construct of science fiction,” said Shockwave. “Tell me, how does Megatron know about Totality?"

"I, uh, might’ve mentioned it to him before I defeated him," said Starscream, his shoulders sagging. What now? They had no weapons. They were outnumbered and outgunned, with enemies on all sides, and everyone was looking to him for answers.

"Starscream?" asked Skywarp. "What’re your orders?"

"I..." As Starscream stammered at his purple Trinemate, an idea took hold. _Teleportation!_ "Skywarp, are you able to jump multiple mechs to the organic ship from here?"

Skywarp nodded. "Yeah. If their shields were down."

"That is not advisable," said Shockwave. "It would take a catastrophic event to bring their shields down, and the Autobot's vessel is between us and them."

_A catastrophic event._ At this point, what was left but catastrophic events? To leave would be the end of his rule. To stay put would be to lose a war on two fronts to two enemies. They had to keep moving forward, throw the situation into disarray and use it to their advantage. He had told the troops that this would be the last push. Everything they had. Now was the time to go all in for a Decepticon victory.

 

_The ideal Decepticon, I must admire,_

_You fall a thousand times and still you rise._

 

Starscream pointed to the mech sitting at engine control. "Blitzwing, ramming speed!"

"Oh. Okay,” said Blitzwing. He wiggled his fingers, like he was about to take action, and then hesitated. "Uh…what's ramming speed?"

"It's when you smash into them," said Starscream dryly. He was beginning to understand why Megatron was always so impatient on the bridge.

"I get that." Blitzwing brought the engines online. "But how fast? A million miles per hour or what?"

"Just accelerate as fast you can. Full frontal assault. Divert all non-essential power to the engines and forward shields." Starscream motioned Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Black Shadow towards Shockwave's seat. "Put me on inter-Decepticon radio. I want everyone on board to hear this."

When Shockwave nodded to him, Starscream rebooted his vocalizer and addressed the entire crew. "This is it, brave warriors! We're going to smash into the Autobot's ship, and use them as a battering ram straight into the organics. Combaticons, form Bruticus. Constructicons, form Devastator. We're going to _crush_ them in the ensuing chaos. Maintain a tight formation. Make sure you're nearby something sturdy to hold while you wait for atmospheric repressurization. This war will finally be ours. Together!"

The Decepticons cheered. The _True Believer's_ engines chunked at the sudden increase in acceleration, making the floor of the bridge rattle and shake. Combiners formed. Mechs charged their weapons and checked their grenades.

Starscream smiled. Whatever happened to the _True Believer_ could be dealt with later. Ships could be repaired, reputations couldn't. Together, they could win.

Well, maybe not _entirely_ together. "Okay," he said quietly. "Shockwave, text us the schematics for the organic ship. The ones on the datapad I gave you."

A packet came across inter-Decepticon radio, a map of the organic vessel with an area in the middle highlighted. "I believe this is the region where they're keeping Totality," said Shockwave. More beeping from his station drew his attention, and he paused to examine the controls. "The Autobots are preparing evasive maneuvers, albeit slowly. Perhaps they do not believe you would truly be so self-destructive. They are hailing us."

"Ignore them." Starscream took hold of Skywarp's arm. "The instant we hit, teleport us over there. Try to get as close to Totality as possible."

Skywarp's wings vibrated, the pattern one of both nervousness and excitement. "Got it." He linked arms with Starscream and Thundercracker, and nodded to Black Shadow. "Touch me."

"Oooh." Black Shadow placed both hands on Skywarp's shoulders. "A fight and a proposition. I just gotta kick Overlord's aft and this’ll be the perfect day."

"This is highly dangerous," said Shockwave. "The organics have technology that we do not understand. I cannot attest to how it will affect Skywarp's teleportation ability, and we do not know if they will have emergency shielding from space after the crash." He continued to work furiously at his console. "Nevertheless, we are out of options. I will coordinate the encounter from this end-"

Starscream clamped his free hand around Shockwave's finial and pulled hard, forcing him to stand. "Oh no you don't. You're coming with us."

Shockwave tried to pull away. "Is that logical?"

"Come on, Shocky," said Black Shadow. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Shockwave's neck. "Starscream says you're coming.”

"Very well," said Shockwave, sounding about as annoyed as he ever got. "Make your calculations now, Skywarp. They are still hesitating. Impact in fifteen seconds."

They huddled together, gripped each other tighter. The entire bridge trembled beneath their feet. Animated shouts of the troops reached a fever pitch. The _Abiding Liberty_ grew closer. They were firing and trying to turn, but there wouldn't be enough time. Behind them, the enormous organic ship sat waiting.

Starscream caught the gazes of his Trinemates, and the three Seekers smiled at each other. In the potent moment of anticipation, in the last mad seconds before certainty splintered apart, before their new future commenced, Starscream sent a message through their private channel.

::Thank you for following me.::

Thundercracker's anxiety was palpable across their link. But he was ready. Ready for whatever came next. Across the bond, he shared a glimpse of his feelings for Skywarp and Starscream. Full of exasperation and fondness. ::I always hated the status quo.:: 

"Yeah," whispered Starscream aloud. "Me too."

Shockwave craned his neck to look at his monitor. "Impact in five seconds. Four. Three. Two..."

There was a lurch, followed by the audial-splitting sound of exploding glass and buckling metal. Then a *vop*, and Starscream disappeared with his squad in flash of purple.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Through a web of electric violet, the sharp angles of the _True Believer_ dissolved into muck-smeared panels and off-center rivets.

Starscream firmly planted his heels and let his gyros adjust, accepting the disorientation that came with teleporting. After countless jumps with Skywarp, he'd come to expect the resulting sensory turbulence. The pitching and rolling of the walls would pass soon. He just needed to let his systems reacclimate.

A sickened groan echoed behind him. Perhaps he should have warned Black Shadow.

Vision resolving, Starscream scanned the surroundings. They were in a long hallway, a dim tunnel broken up by rectangular bulkheads. The walls were...gooier than on other organic ships he'd seen. Set into the far wall, next to a door with alien glyphs, was a giant pipe running from floor to ceiling. A ventilation shaft probably, although the organics’ ability to purify the atmosphere left a lot to be desired. His air filtration system registered a high amount of particulate matter, and the hall reeked with the musty and rotten scent of decaying biological material.

His audials registered weird sounds too. A din that wasn’t immediately next to him, but still loud enough to hear. Gurgling screams. Weapons fire.

Starscream whirled around with his guns raised, but only a retching Black Shadow was behind him. There was a fight nearby, possibly in an adjacent hall. He checked the map Shockwave had loaded and cross-referenced it with the bizarre symbols on the walls. They were on the right deck, but miles away from their intended destination.

Concern ate through Starscream's wiring. Were his Trinemates the ones fighting, or someone else? He pinged both their comm frequencies. "Thundercracker? Skywarp?"

Thundercracker's voice came across the line, but the channel was muddled and distorted. "Starscream, zjxidfja you?" When it cut out, a message came across their Trine link. ::Starscream? Where are you?::

::A few miles away from Totality,:: answered Starscream. ::Where're you?::

::Ten floors below and closer to the port bow,:: said Thundercracker.

::Why aren't we together?::

Skywarp joined the conversation. ::I'm not sure. There's a weird signal here that's messing with my warp field and our comms. Shockwave's been talking about 'oscillating harmonic safeguards', but I got bored and tuned him out.::

::Now he's saying there's an access hatch at the end of this corridor that leads upwards,:: said Thundercracker. ::It should put us near Totality.::

::Do it,:: said Starscream. ::I'll proceed with Black Shadow.::

Black Shadow reached a hand to the nearby door to steady himself. "That's teleporting? I hate it."

"You get used to it," said Starscream. "We're separated from the others but they're gonna meet us. Are you good to go?"

Before Black Shadow could answer, the door whooshed open. He stumbled, not into an organic, but into another mech. One even larger than he was. A flurry of blue and white, the other bot punched Black Shadow in the side and put him in a headlock.

Overlord.

Starscream wasted no time in coolly firing on him. The spray of shoulder cannon blasts hit both of the Warriors Elite and bounced off each of them. He stopped before retargeting. _Wait. You're protected from him, remember?_

"Hello, sexy," murmured Overlord. He smacked his obscenely large lips onto Black Shadow's cheek. "I was wondering when I'd get my hands on you again."

Black Shadow squirmed in his grip. "If you're referring to that night we spent together, know that it's one of my biggest regrets. Sixshot's too."

"That's not what you said at the time,” said Overlord with an exaggerated pout. "And Starscream. So you've come to die like a..." He shook his head and swayed where he stood, his hold on Black Shadow lessening. "Die like a...huh..."

Black Shadow grinned at Starscream. "I'll catch up with you." He swung his arm to the side and fired the fusion cannon, blowing an opening through the huge pipe and the surrounding wall. He then jumped, Overlord’s arms still holding him, and ignited his thrusters. They burst through the hole in the wall, tangled and grappling, and flew into the next corridor and out of sight.

_Slag. I needed him._ "Black Shadow!" Starscream called after them. “Hang on. He can't hurt me!"

But they were long gone. The nearby clamor of laser blasts and screeching soon drowned out Overlord's curses.

"He may not be able to hurt you, but I can."

Gracefully, Soundwave emerged from the same door that Overlord had. He was pointing a weapon. Megatron in gun mode.

Primary brain processes short-circuited and rebooted, and Starscream's limbs went numb. He tried to react, tried to move, but everything around him was in fast-forward while he was motionless. _Megatron. Oh no..._

A little grin spread across Soundwave's exposed lips. "Starscream. I've been waiting for this." With a smirk and a twitch of a finger, he fired Megatron. Five shots total, five blasts of devastating energy aimed directly at Starscream.

Rooted in place, Starscream braced for the pain. For the searing, burning agony that came from being hit by Megatron's absurdly powerful alt mode. Gears nearly melting, he struggled to regain control of his limbs and raise his own weapon.

But the pain never came.

The first shot clipped his wing, and his nerve circuits reported a sensation that should have been near debilitating, but instead tweaked like a mild pinch. The other shots missed entirely.

An eternity passed by. Starscream stood dazed, waiting for the torment.

A second eternity passed by. Soundwave's smirk took a lifetime to morph into a frown.

Starscream recovered first, by crucial seconds. _Holy slag, he missed!_ "Ha ha! Seriously!?!" He targeted Soundwave's midsection and fired.

"Agh!" Soundwave was blown backwards. He stumbled and managed to stay upright, but Megatron fell from his hands.

Lunging forward, Starscream snatched the gun. It was light. Too light. He'd held Megatron thousands of times, emblazoned into his memory every detail of his former leader's flawless shape. This was _not_ Megatron.

"You have models of him now?" groaned Starscream. "That's just so _sad._ "

A steady stream of pink flowed from the wound in Soundwave's side. His adorable mouth set into a snarl. "It's not-"

"Whatever." Starscream shot him again, in the shoulder. And again in the side. Each time, Soundwave staggered backwards. Each time, he righted himself, balled his hands into fists, and assumed a boxing stance. 

But Starscream could feel the sweet triumph of the upper hand. He punched Soundwave in the nose, spun him around, and shoved him towards the maw of the ripped open ventilation shaft.

A blast of hot air poured out of it, accompanied by a fizzle and fwoosh.

Soundwave stumbled at the edge of the pipe. Wiping a mess of coolant from a line that had sprayed into his face, he gestured to Starscream. "Fight me, coward."

"Nah." Starscream fired one last shot, and then kicked Soundwave square in the cassette deck, sending the other mech toppling into the pipe. Peering over the edge, he watched Soundwave fall into blackness. "Good riddance," he yelled, throwing the gun in too. "And take your fake Megatron with you! Loser."

Pulling away, Starscream directed self-repair to the minor injury on his wing. So much for Soundwave and Overlord. Unfortunately, so much for Black Shadow too. Now he was alone in enemy territory, with organics and Autobots and whoever else was fighting close by. With Overlord and Soundwave accounted for, the nearby altercation was probably being waged by a single mech. The very mech he was hoping to avoid.

_And one Gravity Initiator left._ Starscream slunk to the intersection and peeked around the corner. The air was filled with a smoky haze, and he diverted all available power to his visual sensors. Piles of inert, yellowish globs cluttered the path. As quietly as he could, he stepped around them and crept down the hall.

The corridor terminated at the entrance to a larger room. Moving stealthily, he hunched down and hid behind a hill of disgusting organic flesh. It quivered and dripped onto his wingtip. "Eww."

Once concealed, he could truly appreciate the noisy pandemonium. It was like an organic picnic gone wrong. Overturned tables and broken bowls were scattered everywhere. Cooking appliances and shelving lay demolished on the floor. Burning biological material gave off a nightmarish smell, one that his fans couldn’t adequately clear.

And in the middle of the room, Megatron. The _real_ Megatron. Taking heavy fire as a horde of grotesque, headless creatures piled on top of him. He threw them off in clusters, ripping bodies and smashing them apart with slime-smeared fists. Charred wounds dotted his shoulder, and the sound of all his servos straining was audible over the gunfire.

_Megatron._ Of course the rusty groundpounder was still alive. Starscream huddled back and evaluated his position. The path to Totality was through this galley. Should he find the others and get backup first? Thundercracker and Skywarp would be much needed allies, and Shockwave was formidable in his own right. Plus Shockwave would make excellent cannon fodder, as why should Emperor Starscream endanger himself alone?

On the other hand, who was to say how fast he'd be able to find another way? Time wasted meant time Megatron would gain to beat him to Totality. After all, Skywarp and Thundercracker were trying to find _him,_ and his troops were engaging the Autobots at the head of the ship. If they made it to the middle, the mech in charge would be the mech who would rule everything. Starscream wanted to be that mech.

_How tough can these things really be?_ They looked fragile enough to crush in one hand. Megatron was only held down because there were so many of them. Maybe they'd be so busy with each other that he could slip by. Starscream loved a good fight as much as the next Decepticon, but the goal here was winning.

He'd just fly through there and out the opening on the other side. Maybe incinerate Megatron with a cutting remark as he went. Perfect.

Starscream leapt from his hiding position and elegantly transformed, his cape hanging around his nosecone. He fired his afterburners and rocketed into the galley.

It was larger than it had appeared from the hall. Even more surprising was the sheer amount of organics. Bodies were littered in a growing mountain around Megatron, and more sludgy soldiers were pouring in by the second. The room was a sea of smashed dishes and muck and confusing laser fire.

And totally not his problem.

"Later, meat bags!" Starscream soared through the room, nimbly dodging the shots that came his way.

Megatron glimpsed upwards, his face breaking into a cruel smile. "Welcome to the battle, Starscream. How nice of you to make an appearance.” He crushed two organics together, and then tossed the bodies in Starscream's direction.

Starscream corkscrewed out of the way. "Sorry I can't stay for your little dinner party, Megatron. But I have other engagements." For fun, he hovered over Megatron and dropped a series of cluster bombs.

The bombs detonated on Megatron's head, killing a wave of organics around him. They had about as much of an effect as any other personal weapon ever did on Megatron. Meaning he took superficial damage but mainly just looked annoyed.

Cackling, Starscream began to fly away when something struck him.

_What the?_ Pain exploded through his sensor net. His cockpit glass burst. Against his commands, he transformed into root mode and fell to the ground like a heavy stone.

Aliens were instantly on top of him. Pulling and prodding at his frame and bubbling at him in a strange language. Slimy appendages tugged at his neck cables and tried to wriggle into his seams, bringing with them a chilled, sickening pressure.

Starscream executed a command to raise his arm and fire, but his processor lagged and half his systems were forced into a cold reboot. Everything _hurt_. Panic settled into his spark, his fans overwrought and chunking. These things were all over him. Holding his limbs. Weighing him down.

And then they were gone, replaced by a mighty hand closing around his neck and lifting him up. Suddenly he was staring into the repulsively sexy face of-

"Megatron," croaked Starscream.

Megatron laughed. "Painful, isn't it? It seems you've underestimated the power of your opponents, as always." With a twitch of his arm, he threw Starscream backwards.

Starscream landed in a heap behind a row of ovens, temporarily protected from the firefight. He groaned and rolled onto his hands and knee joints. The area behind his chestplates sizzled with pain, but his vision was clearing and his mobility functions were coming back online.

There was a loud crash, and Megatron took cover next to him. Upon closer examination, he didn't look that great. He was riddled with dents, and missing the glass in his right optic. But he was still functional, as proven when a team of organics tried to vault the ovens, and Megatron punched through three with one fist. "Fire at them, you fool!"

Breaking cover, Starscream surged to his feet and fired at the next wave of enemies. They blew apart easily, and the creatures near them broke off to hide behind overturned tables. Half-processed fuel filling his mouth, he slumped back down and clutched at his broken cockpit. "What the hell was that?"

"They protect their frail bodies with sophisticated technology," said Megatron. "A fact you should‘ve known before you got us into this mess."

"Me!?!" said Starscream. "Has your ancient processor forgotten that I told you _all of this?_ You were the one who chose not to listen."

"You were the one who deposed me and stole my ship," roared Megatron.

"You mean my ship?" Starscream sprung up to shoot at the encroaching enemies, noting that they were building a fort out of cafeteria tables. "Besides, it's fragged anyway. I flew it into Prime's ship and straight into this one. As we speak, my Decepticons are battling our enemies, positioning _me_ to emerge as the leader. Again!"

Megatron’s lips turned down, his expression sour like he’d eaten some of the vile food smeared on the floor. "You destroyed the _True Believer_?"

“I did,” said Starscream haughtily. "And I've taken us further in the past few days than you have in the past few centuries!"

"Taken us further by destroying my flagship and trapping us behind enemy lines?" said Megatron. "A typical result from a Starscream plan."

An intimate anger raced through Starscream's wiring. The same old righteous indignation over Megatron's outmoded and ineffectual presumptions. At the same time, there was a familiar chord to the whole situation that felt good. Engaged in combat while snarking with Megatron. Angry and delighted all at once, the heat of the conflict allowing him to unleash a razor tongue without fear of reprisal. "I thought I was the ideal Decepticon. You know, the one you admire? The one who falls a thousand times and still rises?"

In the space of a second, Megatron's face went from baffled to startled to sporting a deep, deep mistrust. His mouth narrowed, and his one working optic glared at Starscream. "What-"

A cylindrical tube clonked off his head and rolled across the floor next to them. Starscream had just enough time to think _Grenade!_ before Megatron's body was on top of him, shielding him from a loud bang and subsequent _tink tink tink._

Megatron winced and pushed himself onto his forearms. His entire being loomed over Starscream, surrounding him. He smelled charged and fire crisp, EM field pulsing with his unique pattern of intoxicating power. "Why did you say that?" he growled.

"You wrote it," said Starscream. He arched lightly into the fierce frame above him, pressing their hips together. The weight of Megatron’s body sent a pleasurable jolt through every neurocircuit. "Along with other flattering things about me."

Megatron's entire demeanor grew darker. "You went through my personal files?" He said the words slowly, as if he could use them to rend strips into Starscream's armor.

"Yeah. Your poetry sucks, by the way." Starscream wriggled beneath him. "Got any more?"

Before Megatron could answer, a pile of mucilaginous creatures landed on top of them. With a grunt, he stood, ripped one of them in half, and used the body to squish the others.

Starscream hopped up and fired at any organic in sight. The aliens had built their own mini shelter for cover, and more were sludging in from all sides. One group pulled a large weapon on wheels, with a barrel longer than the cafeteria tables.

"Uhhhh." Starscream crouched back to the floor. "I think they're bringing in a cannon."

Megatron shook his head. "This isn't working."

"Well, no slag," said Starscream. "You're a terrible communicator and everything is about you! That's why I overthrew your sorry regime in the first place."

Megatron stared at him, confused. Then he gritted his teeth and said, "Not _us_ , you idiot. This situation.”

“That’s what I meant too!” said Starscream hastily. He pointed down the small space in which they were trapped. “What’s that way?”

Shaking his head, Megatron said, “The rest of this kitchen. It’s a dead end.” He dropped his voice to his common _'don’t lie to me'_ tone. “I came on board that way with Overlord and Soundwave. I can’t reach them by radio. Have you seen them?”

“You mean Suckupwave and Overloser?” asked Starscream. “Nope.”

Megatron regarded him suspiciously, but didn’t press. “We need a more powerful weapon and a coordinated attack. We need..." He put a palm to his forehead. "I can't believe I'm saying this. We need to work together." 

Starscream groaned. How did he go from defeating Megatron to being stuck working with him? But the old bolt licker was right. There were so many of these things, they'd grind two mechs down eventually. Or grind _him_ down at least. Megatron may be able to withstand their weapons, but that one shot had affected Starscream greatly. Who knew what an onslaught would do.

"Shoot me," said Megatron.

Starscream shrugged. "Okay." With that, he raised his arm and fired point blank at Megatron's head.

He left a line of charred metal across that ridiculous bucket helmet, parallel to the one he had left days ago. It had, of course, little effect. Megatron glared at him with a look that said _I'm going to kill you later when there's time._ Grabbing Starscream's wrist, he bent his hand back painfully. "I meant shoot my alt mode." 

"Oh," said Starscream with a snicker. “You should’ve been more specific.”

Megatron transformed, his blocky form going from mech to gun in a matter of seconds. He spun through the air and landed in Starscream's hand.

It was like adding a familiar extension to his frame. Megatron’s alt, after all, had been designed for Starscream’s palm. Their fields synched, and a sizzle of authority hummed through both of them. They'd repeated this so many times, had so many successes, that getting into the position resembled victory itself.

Starscream lifted the gun to his lips and whispered, "Just so you know, this is _not_ a team up."

"Agreed," said Megatron. "Now, for the Decepticon cause?"

"For the Decepticons," agreed Starscream. He vaulted onto the ovens, his cape fluttering royally behind him. "You wanted to study us? Research this, you squishy freaks!"

For years, Starscream had privately believed that shooting Megatron was equivalent to one-eighth of an overload.

No weapon, not even a fusion cannon, could match it for sheer thrill. The power. The destruction. They fit together so well that Megatron's strength and dynamism became a mere extension of Starscream's dominance. A force that Starscream, and Starscream alone, could yield.

The front line of organics exploded before they could scramble a defense. Immediate threat pushed back, Starscream concentrated on their cannon. He shot down the barrel and then unloaded on the body, reducing it to a smoking, charred husk.

_Keep in motion!_ Starscream dove into the fray, shooting and dodging and using upturned tables for cover before unleashing the next volley of fatal fire. Every blast killed a handful of organics, blanketing the room in a layer of squishy gore. In a flash of genius battle insight, he shot at the lighting on the ceiling, plunging the room into a half darkness that he could navigate with his radar, but added to the organics' confusion.

They became so scattered, and Starscream moved so fast, that their shots began to hit each other. One managed to clip Starscream in the leg. It hurt, the pain focusing him sharply, but it didn't shut him down.

Megatron was out of his hand and crushing enemies before Starscream could recover from his stumble. He threw him a brief glance, and they continued fighting together. Back to back, taking turns covering each other. Starscream shot while Megatron punched, and Megatron used his body to block as Starscream used his blinding speed to further decimate the opposition.

They twirled through the room in a deadly dance, Megatron alternating from root mode to gun mode, until the last enemy died under his heel. Finally they stood, alone in a room saturated with bodies, the unsteady lighting casting flickering shadows on both of them.

If shooting Megatron was one-eighth of an overload, then Starscream came multiple times.

He couldn't help himself. He smiled, openly, at Megatron.

And Megatron smiled back. Not that dark and savage grin devoid of warmth, but a real, genuine Megatron smile. The kind Starscream had seen merely a handful of times in a million years. The kind that changed his normal scowl, making him achingly handsome and disgustingly desirable, one blown optic enhancing the effect. He inclined his head, a huge admission for him.

Starscream's spark soared. His processor, the ultimate traitor, fed him a thought of _this is how it should’ve been_.

Megatron cupped the side of Starscream's face in his enormous hand. His lips parted but he remained silent, simply stroking Starscream's cheek with his thumb.

Something in Starscream's core ached. _Could we have had this?_ So many years ago, if things had gone differently. Could they have been combiners of the spark, a gestalt working as one? The ultimate leaders. The best of both of them. A bitter thread wove through his jubilation at the thought. After all this time, after how far he'd come, he _hated_ to admit that it was still a fantasy. A dream he still wanted.

"Make no mistake," murmured Megatron. "Your punishment for the last few days will be mythological in scope."

"More poetry?" asked Starscream. He stepped closer and placed a hand on Megatron's chest, sensing a jump in the larger mech's energy signature. Without thinking, he rose and quickly, delicately, pressed his lips to Megatron's. The ghost of a kiss, fleeting and almost there.

Megatron sucked in a sharp little puff of air. His single optic shuttered. The amount of restraint he employed to not chase Starscream's mouth was noticeable, a tangible tremor through his heated frame. His happy countenance transformed into one of blistering intensity. "What now then?" he rumbled. "Shall we keep wasting resources and energy? Or do we finish this together?"

Starscream placed his head on Megatron's chest and sighed. _Yes._ Yes he wanted to finish this together. Yes he wanted all of Megatron's time and attention and power.

Yes he also wanted to be leader. He wanted to rule. To fight and scheme and show everyone that he, Starscream, was the best choice for the Decepticons.

He wanted both, but he could only have one. And he'd put everything he had into getting here. He'd destroyed their ship, forced the situation to its very edge, pushed his Trinemates, and cashed in every bit of influence he had with the troops. As much as that hateful, treacherous part of him wanted to join with Megatron, wanted to give in to their now clear and mutual attraction, to do so would be a mockery of how far he'd come. It would be failure. Maybe sweet and gratifying, but it would be failure.

Megatron placed a hand on his shoulder. "Starscream?"

He wanted one thing, but after everything he'd sacrificed, with everything on the line, he _needed_ another. He needed himself to come first. He'd always known he was the true heir to the Decepticons, what he hadn't known was the pain that position would bring.

Starscream looked into Megatron's gaze, his smile now bittersweet. With a speed befitting the fastest Seeker that Cybertron every produced he whipped up his arm, nestled his gun under Megatron's chin, and said, "No."

He pulled the trigger and kicked against the larger mech’s chest. Megatron reeled backwards as Starscream transformed, flying out of the cafeteria and down the wide hall.

Flying to his destiny.

 

 


End file.
